


Memories

by QueenPunk



Category: Bleach
Genre: Adventure, F/F, F/M, Family, M/M, Multi, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-02-03 11:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1743740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPunk/pseuds/QueenPunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Soul Society had picked itself up after the war with the Quincy Blood War, as it had come to be known as. Many Soul Reapers had moved on, became stronger and wiser through their struggles, and now were living the warless life they had earned. There was more at stake now than back then. UNDER CONSTRUCTION</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Soul Society

“Urahara-taichou,” Nemu said, observing the screen with her usual blank expression, although her monosyllabic voice conveyed slight puzzlement,” there appears to be strange fluctuations in spiritual pressure along the northern eightieth district’s barriers.”

He walked into the small dark room, filled with wires and monitors in every crevice available. Nemu adjusted the sonar-like device to focus on the area that she was indicating. The blue sensors were flowing in their normal pattern against the black background, a grid of blue lines showing the coordinates of the spiritual pressure.

She maneuvered her chair to the side as her Taichou peered down to look at the screen, the blue light casting an eerie glow on his face. 

“That’s Herugeto*, right?” he questioned.

“Yes, sir.”

“You do know I’m perfectly fine with you calling me Kisuke?” he sighed dramatically, pouting.

“Yes, sir,” he’s reminded her of this everyday for the past ten years she’s been his fukutaichou. Nemu thinks it would be disrespectful to address her superior in such a casual manner. Urahara-taichou thinks she’s just being a prude.

He continues to study the grid, zooming in with the touch screen.

“I don’t see anything unusual.”

Nemu simply waited patiently, counting down in her head from ten. The fluctuations that at first had been annoyingly sporadic had evened out to twice an hour, the second in the sequence occurring exactly thirty three seconds after the first. 

3,2,1...

On cue, a staccato beeping on the screen as well as several of the blue bars moving in sharp pointed waves along the edges of the screen. Nemu tilted her head in curiosity, flicking her dark eyes up to glance at her superior. Urahara-taichou's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he drew back, scratching his chin and lowering the brim of his cap to obscure his eyes from view.

“That was interesting,” he observed dryly. 

“Indeed,” she agreed.

“How many times have you seen this oddity?”

“Thrice per month for the past eleven months,” Nemu answered,” what do you believe could be occurring?”

Surely a genius like him could figure this out. 

Urahara-taichou shrugged nonchalantly,” No idea. It could just be the outermost barrier needs a kido touch up. Although, the Kido Corps are usually a lot more diligent with its upkeep. Or our equipment could use an update.”

The corners of Nemu’s mouth twitched downward,” I can assure you the equipment is up to date. Akon and I just updated them three days ago. The fluctuations were shown on both the old and new programs.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?” he asked.

If Nemu were less of a professional, she would have glared at him for daring to point a blaming finger in her direction. As it was, she stewed on the inside and answered in a clipped tone,” I did not want to bother you with useless information over a one time mishap.”

He sighed, turning to walk out the door, pausing briefly in the doorway,” Send some researchers to gather data on the area and be discreet about it. I don’t want to send the Soul Society into a panic over nothing.”

Nemu nodded sagely, even as a sliver of fear clamped her chest tightly. It’s probably nothing, she assured herself. 

She knows why her taichou doesn’t want to publicize these strange occurrences. Not out of blatant dishonesty or insubordination of the Sotaichou, but because there had been peace for ten years. Ten years of beautiful, uninterrupted, prosperous peace. The Soul Society had picked itself up after the war with the Quincy Blood War, as it had come to be known as. Many Soul Reapers had moved on, became stronger and wiser through their struggles, and now were living the warless life they had earned. There was more at stake now than back then.  
/  
“Yachiru, eat your dinner,” Yumichika chided, twirling his braid around his index finger absentmindedly.

The pink-haired fukutaichou stuck her bottom lip out,” No. I want candy.”

Then she stabbed her chopsticks into her bowl, splitting the porcelain and lodging itself into the table. Yumichika sighed, continuing to eat his own meal, not even bothering to comment on her bratty actions. Yachiru will eat eventually, she always does. 

He reached over and yanked the chopsticks out of the table, laying them down,” Don’t you know having your chopsticks vertical is bad luck?”

“You sound like Pachinko-head,” she snickered.

Yumichika gave a dignified humph, narrowing his eyes slightly at the little girl,” I sound monumentally more sophisticated than Ikkaku.”

The girl bobs her head dramatically,” Everyone sounds smarter than Pachinko.”

He cocked his head to the side, chewing his food, swallowing before saying with a crafty look in his eyes,” Do you want to know what makes him so idiotic?”

Yachiru places both her hands on the table and leans over eyes large with curiosity,” Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”

The Fourth Seat makes a big show of blowing on his next bite of unadon, slowly bringing it to his lips, and exaggerated chewing it to keep the little Fukutaichou in suspense. 

He swallows and pats his mouth daintily with a napkin,” Do you really want to know?”

Yachiru jumps up and down in her seat,” Yes, yes, yes!”

Yumichika leans over in a conniving manner, glancing around the room as if scared of being caught. Yachiru copies him.

“Well, when Ikkaku was younger, he refused to eat anything but sweets. But, you see my dear, if you eat only sweets your brain begins to rot and your hair falls out. Poor Ikkaku didn’t realize what was happening until he was brain-dead and bald.”

Her mouth dropped open in horror, pupils narrowing to pinpoints. A chubby hand reached upwards to rest in her hair, as if to make sure it was still there. Yumichika relaxed back into his seat, quite pleased with himself. Now he won’t have to argue with her for an hour to eat healthy food.

“It isn’t proper for a young lady to gape like a fish,” he comments, popping another bite of unadon into his mouth. She snaps her jaw shut with a click as her top and bottom teeth collide with one another. Slowly, Yachiru returns to her own seat, staring blankly at him.

Yumichika points delicately with his chopsticks,” You should really eat your dinner.”

Yachiru obeyed, methodically eating the unadon with that same dazed look in her eyes.  
/  
“Amaya,” a voice tickles her ear and she absentmindedly batted her hand to shoo away the source of the sound. She snuggled deeper under her covers. It was nice and warm. No psychotic teachers telling her to perform a hundred flash steps in a row, no practice battles, nothing except the sweet lull of sleep. Hands gently shake her and Amaya groans. She just wants to sleep. 

“Amaya, come one we have class in thirty minutes. It’s our last week. We only have one more week.”

She slowly opens sleep fogged pea green eyes, lifting her head slightly grumbling,” About damn time this shit is over with.”

Amaya sluggishly sat up, not wanting to kick the blankets off of the lower half of her body. She stretches, popping her shoulder joints and cracking her knuckles before flopping back down onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Mareyo? Can you repeat that last sentence? I need another energy boost to get up,” she said. There was an interesting stain on the ceiling that, if she squinted, looked like the outline of a lopsided dog. Or moose. Sometimes giraffe. It all depended on the angle you looked at it. 

Her roommate giggled, and she could hear the rustling sound of Mareyo cinching her kosode tight. Then she spurts out between laughter,” We only have one more week.”

Amaya sprang up, a crooked smile on her face. Mareyo beams back at her, pulling her short dirty blonde hair back into a ponytail, slipping daggers into hidden compartments within the sleeves. She reaches into her own dresser, pulling out her own red and white uniform, singing horribly off-key,” No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher’s dirty looks.”

“That’s mean,” Mareyo protested,” the teacher’s weren’t that bad.”

“Maybe to you, Ms.Omaeda. They never would fuss at a noble,” Amaya jabbed with no real force behind the insult. It wasn’t even true, Mareyo was just naturally a teacher’s pet. Obedient and quiet unless she had a necessary question to ask. She was also bubbly and sweet, so no one could really dislike her. 

Amaya on the other hand, she was a mediocre student. Not the best and not the worst. The only thing that made her stand out was her mouth, which she tended to let run when she was passionate(or pissed off) about something. One of her teachers had once fondly referred to her as ‘a fly that’s always buzzing in your ear and no matter how many times you swat at it never goes away.’ Amaya figured that was just a roundabout way of saying she was annoying. 

“Do we really have anything to do this week?” she wonders aloud, slipping an arm into the sleeve of her kosode. “ Because I’m pretty sure finals were two weeks ago…so what now?”

“I think we’re mostly going to be going over which Divisions we should join based on our own strengths and weaknesses,” Mareyo suggests,” I overheard that we’re supposed to be going on a tour of the Court Guard Squads.”

Amaya groaned,” Sounds like a lot of lectures. Bunch of bullshit.”

Mareyo tittered at her friend’s barbed words. Even though they had been friends for nearly six years now, the rich girl still wasn’t used to Ammy’s unrefined speech. Amaya hopes the little brunette will eventually stop laughing every time a foul word falls from her mouth. 

“I can understand why I have to go to this thing, but why do you?” she asks as they race towards their classroom. “ Pretty obvious you’re gonna be in with the assassins.”

The future Stealth Force member smiles,” I don’t have to go. It just gives me an opportunity to see my big brother at work.”

Amaya curls her lip discreetly in disgust, wondering why anyone would want to see that fat slob.

“And besides I hear that some Divisions hand out goody bags filled with sweets just for touring their compound!”

Ah, now that made much more sense, she concluded as they skid to a halt in front of classroom 17B. Usually used as their off-class practice room, but for today it was being used as a meeting point for the graduates joining the Court Guard Squads. A few heads turned as she slid the door open. They quickly lost interest once they saw her familiar navy-head and return to talking amongst one another.

“Well, you’re sure cutting it close,” a sneering voice mocks. 

Amaya felt her eye twitch in irritation, slowly turning her head to hiss,” No one said the advanced class would be joining us today, Kisaki.”

An average looking blonde cocked a dark eyebrow at her tone as she leant casually against the wall,” Well, it seems like you dimwits are in need of our guidance.”

“I’ll show you guidance,” the ‘dimwit’ growled, raising her fist, only to suddenly be grabbed around the waist and dragged forward. Soon, she was in an awkward group hug, too close for comfort next to her rival, their hips and chests uncomfortably close.

Mareyo exclaims happily,” Isn’t it great that the three of us won’t be separated anymore?”

She wrapped an arm around Mareyo, discreetly trying to unsquish herself from Kisaki, saying in a tight voice,” Yes. Great is exactly the word I was going to use.”

Even Kisaki made an attempt for the sweet girl’s sake,” Wonderful.”

Mareyo beamed.

As Mareyo pulled away and began making her way around the room greeting everyone like a long lost relative, smiling all the way, a girl comments,” She sure does know how to wrap people around her little finger.”

The navy-haired girl darts a look at the speaker, another talented yuppie named Kohana Yamaoka. 

Kisaki, pulling her nearly knee-length braid over her shoulder and running a hand over its ridges, turns towards the other Advanced Classman and starts chatting about the Divisions they would be visiting this week. Amaya walks away from the boring conversation to where a few of the boys from her class were practicing their swordplay.

“Hey, Lee, toss me a sword,” she called as she walks up. The boy grinned, doing as she asks. Amaya easily snatched the wooden practice sword from the air, a ferocious grin splitting her face at the familiar weight. A few of them from other classes snicker at the scrawny blue-haired girl, thinking she is only around the boys to flirt or make a fool of herself. 

Amaya pointed the tip at her guy friends, stating her challenge arrogantly, “Loser buys the winner lunch.”

The Boys, her boys, all matched her shit-eating grin and one of them stepped up to the challenge,” You better have some money saved, Ammy.”

She snorts, licking her lips,” Fuck no. Why the hell else would I be making you buy me lunch?”

He rolls his eyes, while the others chuckle, all of them used to her crass attitude. They both get into position; slightly leant forward, both hands on their wooden swords, eyes dancing, muscles taut and ready to spring at any moment. Each waited for the other to make the first move.

Impatient as always, Amaya leaped forward and thrust her wooden sword, aiming for his chest with the fake sword. He easily stepped back and blocked the blow. She relentlessly let loose an onslaught of attacks, which he almost easily blocked, falling into a routine where her wooden sword intended to hit. She growled in frustration, aiming for his head, eyes a poisonous green.

He once again blocked it, and then grinned down at her,” I’m really looking forward to the lunch you’re gonna buy me. I hear the restaurants in the Seireitei can be expensive.”

As he was talking, she noticed his concentration slightly fell, leaving an opening. Amaya darted forward, her wooden sword clipping his left shoulder. He reeled back, parrying her blow before she could completely tear down his defenses. She gripped the wooden handle tighter, shunpoing behind him and swinging the sword down in an arc towards his head. He whipped around and blocked it at the last second. 

Slightly disoriented from her brief shunpo Amaya’s stance wavered and she backpedaled as he switched from defensive to offensive. The navy-haired girl struggled to block the rain of attacks. He began mercilessly jabbing, trying to knock the sword out of her hands. Amaya stumbled as he kept hounding her backwards and she could feel her feet tangling, the first heart stopping moment when one begins to fall-

“Attention- Amaya! Nakamura! Put those swords down this instant!” 

Amaya managed to catch herself, no longer having to fend off Nakamura’s attacks as the non-Advanced class House Mother yelled from across the room. She straightened herself up and her friend froze mid-swing, slowly dropping the wooden sword.

Shina-san marched over and yanked both swords from their hands muttering angrily under her breath. Amaya smiled,” We were just practicing our fighting stances.”

The older woman shot her a withering look,” The last time the boys and you ‘practiced your fighting stances’ two of you ended up in the infirmary.”

They all cringed at the memory and had the decency to look sheepish.

“Aaaw c’mon teach,” she implored,” it’s almost graduation. We’re just getting rid of some last minute nerves.”

Shina-san’s stance softened as she set the wooden swords back on their stand,” All right, as long as you five behave while you’re in the Seireitei. It’s not as lenient as the Academy. They won’t tolerate any disrespect or tomfoolery. Especially from this year’s graduates.”

“Why this year’s?” Kisaki questioned from behind them. Amaya leaped into the air,” Did ya have to sneak up on us like that?! Geez. Have some courtesy. Make some noise or something!”

Like usual, the blonde ignored her.

“Because you’re the start of a new era!” exclaimed the House Mother.

“A new era?” Amaya tilted her head curiously. “Are we like a millennial class?”

Shina-san shook her head,” No. This class is not only the first to graduate after the Quincy War, but it is also the first to graduate under Kyoraku-sotaichou and his new Academy regulations.”

She looked at the students, each looking very confused over this new information,” Didn’t you all go over this in Laws and History of the Seireitei?”

Everyone grimaced, realization dawning on their faces. The Laws and History professor, Jun Ebisawa (also dubbed ‘Egghead‘) was known for his endlessly pointless speeches on laws and whether or not he approved of them, complaining about his life, praising Central 46 like it was a deity, and just generally being a nuisance to the entire student body. After a while most students realized majority of the shit he talked about wasn’t even on the test and tuned him out in favor of just taking notes from the textbook. Amaya shuddered remembering the long boring lectures that were sure to haunt her for the rest of her life. Even her worst enemy she would never subject to that kind of torture.

“We may have…skipped over that lesson,” Kisake explained. 

“Egghead didn’t teach us shit,” Amaya grumbled, tugging on the hem of her sleeves and noticing that all the students had begun moving towards the doors, headed by two of their professors. Mareyo waved her hand and the navy-haired girl hurried to catch up with her friend.

“This is gonna be fun!” cheered Mareyo, hooking her elbow with Amaya’s. “ I can show you all the best restaurants and boutiques and-and-and-”

The brunette trailed off, her voice trembling in excitement,” We’re gonna be able to visit them all the time together after this week. We’ll be official Soul Reapers. All these years of work are finally going to pay off.”

Amaya nodded, although she didn’t understand why Mareyo felt so passionately about being a Soul Reaper when walking into the Seireitei. As a noble, the brunette already lived there and didn’t have to worry about becoming a warrior to enter. Unlike her, a soul who had to hope desperately for any kind of spiritual power just to see if she even had a chance of ever setting a foot inside those walls.

Kisaki lazily wrapped her braid around her arm-a nervous tic of hers that Amaya usually only saw before a major exam. She harshly jabbed a bony elbow into the blonde’s ribs,” What’s your damn deal? You‘ve already been accepted into the Third Division. It‘s not like with the rest of us, praying that the Division we want to be in will accept our applications.”

She glared down at her, rubbing her side,” I may not have the same concerns as the rest of you, but this is still my first time as well going into the Seireitei.”

Mareyo patted both of her friend’s shoulders affectionately,” It’s going to be alright you guys. The Seireitei isn’t that scary of a place once you get used to it. You two don’t have any reason to be nervous.”

“Me? Nervous?” Amaya laughed,” I never get nervous.”

Mareyo’s eyes creased in worry,” But you’ve been biting your lip all morning. You only ever do that when you’re really nervous.”

Shit. Figures the noble would know her tells just like she knew Kisaki’s and Mareyo’s (Mareyo tends to babble in a high pitched voice when she was nervous and Kisaki bites her nails to bloody nibs).

Amaya shrugged,” I guess I want to make a good impression on the Divisions. I still don’t know which ones I should send applications to.”

She was also terrified that if she did happen to like a certain Division, they wouldn’t accept her. Amaya didn’t want to set her hopes up too high only to have them shot down. It wasn’t like she was setting her sights on the First Division or the Fourth Division and definitely not the Twelfth Division. All she wanted was to be in a Division with nice people who could also kick some serious ass. That’s all she was asking for.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t looked into the Divisions. Amaya had skimmed to find out what each Division’s specialty was. First dealt with governing the Soul Society. Second dealt with covert operations. Third she totally ignored because Kisaki was going there and like hell would she ever apply to the same place as that bitch. Fourth was healing. Fifth usually worked closely with the Academy to set up curriculum. Sixth well- she never actually got a clear answer on what the Sixth Division does, it was something along the lines of setting an example for other Divisions. Probably a noble thing she doesn’t understand. Seventh Division one of the combat squads. Eighth Division worked with Living World affairs- kind of boring for a Division run by Soul Society’s hero. Ninth ran the Seireitei Bulletin. Tenth Division dealt with relations with Huenco Mundo and the Arrancars. Eleventh was the ultimate fighting unit-she had to admit, they sounded pretty badass. Twelfth sounded creepy as fuck and she hated science. The Thirteenth Division was the odd man’s Division- from what she read they did a little bit of everything and had no set standard.

“Ooh, we’re almost to the gate,” Mareyo elatedly hopped to get a better look over their classmates’ heads. Amaya followed her lead and leapt to get a peek at the Blue Stream Gate, the closest entrance to the Seireitei from the Academy. Kaiwan, the gatekeeper, loomed over them, his lips curled in a sneer showcasing sharp canines. The navy-haired girl shivered.

“Some welcoming party they got there,” she commented,” he just seems like he totally wants us to go in.”

Mareyo flicked her hand, waving away her friend’s fear,” Don’t worry about him. He may look intimidating but Kaiwan-san is just a big teddy bear.”

“A big teddy bear that could pop my head like a grape,” Amaya muttered under her breath. 

“Or peel your skin off like a banana,” Kisaki murmured back. The blonde also seemed to be just as intimidated as she was for once.

She didn’t care how much of a teddy bear Mareyo claimed he was, Amaya still walked as far away from that monster as possible.  
/  
Nanao’s eye twitched as she asked in a tight voice,” What did you do to the recruits tour schedule?”

Shunsui answered in a pleasant voice,” I changed it.”

She ground her teeth together, hands twitching to remove her glasses and give him the full blow of her glare,” And why did you change my fully logical schedule into such an absurd mess?”

“Because they would be coming to the First Division barracks today. I don’t want them here today,” Shunsui pouted before putting his head back down onto his desk where it had been resting before she had barged in.

“And why don’t you want the recruits here today? The recruits that will be the first to graduate under your leadership? Don’t you think you should invest a little of your time to at least meet these aspiring Soul Reapers?”

“I will. Just not today, my sweet Nanao-chan,” he ended the statement with a dreamy look in his eye. She hit him in the back of the head with her clipboard,” I am not your sweet Nanao-chan at the moment.”

The fukutaichou slammed the clipboard onto the desk,” Explain this asinine schedule!”

Recruitment Tours and Days  
Day 1-Divisions 4,5, and 9  
Day 2-Divisions 6, 8, and 10  
Day 3-Divisions 3, 7, and 11  
Day 4-Divisions 2, 12, and 13  
Day 5-Division 1 :) 

Nanao really hated the smiley face he had added next to their Division. As if it were something to be proud or happy about. This kind of scheduling was the type you would expect from such a man as their Captain Commander. It would have made much more sense to start from Division 1 on down. There would have been much less confusion and much less stress for her if he had just approved the schedule she had provided instead of adding his own little touches to suit his own needs. Selfish, stupid man.

Shunsui lifted his head, rubbing the spot where she had hit him.

“I sent hell butterflies to ask when the taichos would like to have their barracks toured,” he explained. “ I figured it would be better to ask when these tours would fit into their schedules than to just shove it on them.”

“And why is our Division last?”

“Because I’m taking off on the other days.”

“Why?” she stressed, trying to find the root of all this.

He smiled softly at her,” Because our daughter’s birthday is this week and she asked to have a camping adventure. So, I’m taking off to chaperone her and her friends.”

Nanao irritation deflated and a hand flew up to her mouth. Dear Kami, she had been so distracted by the scheduling crisis she had completely forgotten her own daughter’s birthday. What kind of a mother forgets her own child’s birthday? She collapsed in the chair that now sat in front of Shunsui’s desk. This whole time she had been searching for a selfish, purely Shunsui reason as to why he had been procrastinating about meeting the recruits. 

She cradled her face in her hands and in a muffled voice said,” I’m a terrible mother.”

When had she become so cold?

The rustling of fabric didn’t even make her look up, but when he wrapped his arms around her she leant into his embrace. 

“Don’t stress about it so much. It’s not like her party hasn’t been planned months in advance. It’s the first time you have to deal with the recruitment days while also juggling your other duties. It also isn’t like you’re going to forget her birthday on its actual day,” he comforted her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “My precious Nanao shouldn’t beat herself up just because a slip of memory.”

She pulled away slightly, smiling a little, although her heart still constricted with guilt,” You’re right.”

Nanao straightened up,” Speaking of Mei and her birthday, did you get her a present?”

“I thought the camping trip was her present.”

“No, that’s her party.”

The soutaicho cocked his head to the side and asked dubiously,” Are you sure?”

“Yes! I’m sure! And if my memory isn’t slipping again, we discussed this!”

“We did?” Shunsui sounded surprised. She could practically see the gears in his head turning trying to remember when they had made any mention of the camping trip. The guilt in Nanao’s chest eased away a little. It was nice to see that she wasn’t the only imperfect parent here. 

The fukutaichou prepared to launch into another bickering session with her husband when she noticed a black flutter in the corner of her vision. Breaking eye contact she moved forward , lifting her arm outward so the hell butterfly could land. A barely there brush of gentle wings and Nemu’s voice drifted into her mind,

“ Division Twelve requesting permission to send a research team to study Soul Society’s outer walls. Our Captain has developed an interest in seeing their composition.”

Nanao frowned, narrowing her violet eyes. The request seemed simple and random enough, something only Kisuke would ask to do. There had never been any real research over the outer walls by the Soul Society as their upkeep was primarily the Kido Corps jurisdiction. No one really mentioned them. In fact, she was pretty sure the only ones who had ever even seen the walls were the ones from the Eightieth Districts. Kisuke had lived in the Soul Society for the past ten years. Why did he suddenly have an interest in such a random matter?

She shook her head. She needed to stop overanalyzing these things. Nanao had more than enough on her plate as is as the First Division fukutaichou and mother of two children. 

She delicately hooked her spiritual pressure with the hell butterfly’s, coolly stating,” Permission granted, but please send the team after the recruitment days.”

As the hell butterfly floated away, Nanao turned back to discussing her daughter’s birthday and promptly tucked her suspicions away into the far recesses of her mind for another day.  
/  
“Why are we visiting the boring Divisions first?” Amaya groaned, looking at the schedule for today. Not that she thought the Fifth Division was that boring, but it wasn’t in her top three choices to tour. She had absolutely zero interest in healing or in working in a Division that was basically a publishing company.

Kisaki eyed the paper is disdain, “ Why don’t we just tour them in order?”

Mareyo was beside herself in excitement, eyes practically sparkling as she danced around,” Oooh, this is gonna be soooo much fuuuuun!”

“How?” 

“I know a few of the people from these Divisions,” she answered. “I’ll be able to inroduce all of you!”

Amaya continued to scowl and pout at the schedule,” The Fourth is such a boring Division. I hear it’s filled with all the weaklings who couldn’t make the cut in the other Divisions.”

“Quit complaining,” Kisaki snapped, slapping the other girl in the back of the head.

Rubbing the back of the head, Amaya muttered,” Damnit, Kiki. I’ll bitch when I wanna bitch. I don’t fuckin’ need your written consent to do it.”

The blonde didn’t look impressed, crossing her arms and cocking a hip out,” Oh really?”

Mareyo hopped into the middle of them,” Heeey, why don’t we head towards the front of the group? Near the professors? That way we’ll be able to hear everything the guides are saying. Plus, if they’re handing out candy we’ll be the first ones.”

And that way they can stop the two of you from strangling each other was the unspoken sentence.

As the trio weaved their way towards their professors, Amaya found herself pressing in close next to Mareyo. Every building around them appeared to be the exact same. A labyrinth of streets winded around every corner. This place must truly be massive. She had seen the maps, but nothing could compare to being in such a maze. It felt like the kind of place someone could get swallowed up and lost in. She had to keep reminding herself that Rukongai was even larger than this and that being inside these walls was much safer than out there.

Amaya howled when suddenly she was lifted off her feet. She lashed out violently, kicking behind her. Nakamura dashed in front of her, walking effortlessly backwards, a big grin on his face,” So when are you gonna pay up on that little wager we had earlier?”

“The wager was void when Shina-san interrupted the fight,” she spat. Kisaki smirked as she and Mareyo continued onward towards the front of the group, the small brunette skipping and humming happily. Damn traitors.

“Put me down Tojo!”

“Nah, I like seeing you squirm.”

Amaya hissed out in frustration, then reached up and grasped the hand holding the back of her shihakusho. She felt like a scolded puppy, lifted up by the scruff. She dug her nails in deep, hoping she drew blood. He promptly dropped her on her ass. 

“Ah! Damnit Ammy! Did you really have to sink your talons in that deep?,” Tojo glared, bringing his hand up to lick the blood off her wounded hand. Amaya stood up and rubbed her ass because her tailbone was not agreeing with being dropped from nearly four feet in the air onto solid concrete.

Dramatically she hooked her fingers at him and hissed like a disgruntled cat,” Don’t mess with me.”

Nakamura laughed before sobering up,” No, but seriously guys, who’s paying for lunch?”

Amaya punched him in the shoulder, eye twitching in irritation even though she wasn’t really angry. She loved Mareyo like a sister but when everything was boiled down she preferred being one of the guys. Make-up, slumber parties, and all that shit was fun for giggles and kicks when she was bored. The navy-haired girl would take a day of sword fighting, ass kicking, and just doing stupid things over that any day. 

Her eyes drifted upwards as they approached a taller building that the rest, one with more glass and a large lush flower garden enveloping most of the sides. The Fourth Division hospital-or headquarters, depending on how you looked at it. Instead of actually going into the facilities, the group was ordered to split up into smaller factions of ten to fifteen. Amaya dragged the boys and wrangled Mareyo and Kisaki into her group. Kisaki was in the middle of snapping at Nakamura to get his hand off of her ass when suddenly a hush fell over the crowd.

Walking out of the Fourth Division building, a woman wearing a whit haori stepped out.

A taicho.

Her tremendous spiritual pressure didn’t pound people to the ground. It wrapped around them, heavy and dense like smoke or water. Amaya felt her lungs contract painfully as she felt the thickness in the air make it difficult to breathe. This was power. Amaya licked her lips, a raw primal hunger flashing dangerously in her poisonous green eyes. An ambitious fire crawled into her veins. She harshly pressed it down. Now was not the time to think of such things.

The woman standing before them wasn’t what Amaya had expected a taicho would look like. She certainly didn’t look like someone this kind of spiritual pressure would belong to. She was average height with long auburn hair that glinted silkily in the early morning light. A youthful face with large doe-brown eyes and pouty lips. A curvaceous, slightly chubby body that was a knockout. 

Amaya slapped Nakamura and Tojo in the back of their heads when the two idiots started drooling. Sure the woman was a fucking gorgeous, but wouldn’t those melons just get in the way while fighting?

“Hello everyone!” the mystery taicho (Amaya really should have paid more attention when they would say who headed which Division) chirped happily. “And welcome to the Fourth Division!”

Damnit, even her voice was perfect. Her eye twitched in irritation. The boys and Kisaki sighed dreamily. Mareyo giggled at their actions while Amaya forced down a snarl.

“I am Orihime Inoue, taicho of the Fourth Division. Please feel free to just call me Orihime-san. I hope you will enjoy your time touring today!”

I highly doubt that, Amaya thought disgruntled as she watched three of her friends gazing at the taicho with adoring puppy-dog eyes. This was gonna be a long day.  
/  
Rukia glanced up at the clock, worry eating away at her stomach, as she hurriedly tried to finish up some last minute paperwork. Her eyes subconsciously drifted towards the clock. She had worked an hour overtime. An hour! She pressed her fingers into her temples, trying to soothe the oncoming headache she could already feel building up. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her husband. Rukia wholeheartedly trusted that man. It was just that she didn’t trust him to make the best decisions with their-

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and she called out,” Come in.”

Kiyone walked-more accurately, she waddled-into the office, a stack of papers in her hands,” I checked and rechecked the budget for the next three months. Everything’s balanced between the barracks, cafeteria, training equipment, and whatever else we have to fund.”

Rukia’s shoulders sagged in relief, taking the papers from the Third Seat’s hands,” Thank you so much for helping me out with this. I don’t think I could’ve met the deadline for most of these reports without you.”

The other woman scratched the back of her dark blonde hair sheepishly,” Well, before you became fukutaichou, Sentaro and I had to do all the Fukutaicou-Classified work. It was always a lot easier with the two of us working together.”

“Working together?” Rukia question dubiously, arranging her desk and standing up, rolling her spine in an attempt to ease the soreness in her back.

“Working together, competing. Same thing,” Kiyone dismissed, then her mouth set into a hard line,” I always finished my paperwork before Boogerface anyway. So if it were a competition, I would have obviously won.”

The Fukutaichou chuckled, filing away the papers,” Sentaro is turning over in his grave.”

“Boogerface can get pissy with his dead ass. I always finished first,” Kiyone sniffed haughtily. The blonde waddled over to a chair and eased herself into it,” Aaah, sweet relief. My ankles were killing me.”

Rukia eyed the other woman’s rounded belly,” Shouldn’t you be at home? The twins should be popping out any day now.”

Kiyone rested her hands on her stomach, lovingly looking down at it,” If I stay at home, I have four other of my cookie-crunchers to look out for. If I go to work, I get to help manage a Division. Managing a Division is easier than managing my litter of kids.”

“I know what you mean,” Rukia muttered, thinking fondly of her own little mischief-makers. Then her eyes widened in horror thinking of what her little mischief-monsters could get away with while their father was in charge. She had tried to explain to him that adorableness does not equate to innocence. 

Even though if it did, that would mean her children were literally angels. They made some adorable babies, Rukia couldn’t help thinking with pride. 

Rukia skimmed one of the papers,” Man this schedule is screwed up. Why is our tour scheduled for the second to last day? I thought I told the Head Captain that I’d prefer it earlier on in the week.”

“Jushiro asked for that. He’s hoping to be here to meet the recruits,” the blonde answered.

“He’s going to bribe them with candy, isn’t he?”

“My husband would never do something so despicable!” Kiyone gasped in mock horror, eyes widening dramatically,” He’s just trying to spread the joy of sugary delights to the world. You should be ashamed for looking down on our beloved Captain that way!”

“You just want him to quit giving it to your kids.”

“That is true.”


	2. New Recruits-The Pink Haired Menace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yachiru meets a new recruit.

“So, was the Seireitei magical for you guys or what?” Mareyo squealed as they walked back towards their dorms. The sun had long since set and the courtyard was bathed in the light of the full moon. 

Amaya folded her arms over her chest angrily,” Whatever the or what is.”

Kisaki smiled down at the brunette,” Don’t listen to the ingrate. I was able to see some of the Seireitei’s greatest assets today.”

Amaya snorted and muttered so only Kisaki could hear her, giving the blonde a sly look,” Yeah. You seemed to be enjoying those women’s assets a little too much.”

She fixed her eyes back on the moon, enjoying the view as sakura petals drifted along in the breeze to create a picturesque scene. Her hair ruffled in the wind, the navy strands gaining a silver hue. Mareyo and Kisaki paused in their walking to follow suit. It was an old tradition of theirs. The three had met under a full moon by chance so it only seemed right to appreciate it when the glowing sphere showed its full presence.

Amaya was going to miss this. She was going to miss sneaking out and back in after curfew. She was going to miss being in class together. She was going to miss trying to cheat off of Kisaki. Hell, she’d even miss the teachers no matter how much of a pain in the ass they were. It seemed like only yesterday she had stepping in to take the entrance exam, nervous in front of the committee. Now she was off to be a Soul Reaper. As much as they had prepped and informed them, Amaya still wasn’t entirely sure she knew what to expect. She was so average in her skills that she often wondered if she was even good enough to be a Soul Reaper. Nakamura and Tojo had excelled at zanjutsu. Mareyo, obviously, was on her way to becoming a hoho master. Kisaki was freakishly good at everything. Not that Amaya would ever tell the blonde that. It always seemed that while everyone got the hang of techniques easily, she was constantly fighting to keep up, always making mistakes, always dropping behind.

It didn’t help that they were constantly reminded every single day that training was even harsher and more rigorous once they actually joined a Division. It seemed that even with her ambitions she would just end up an unseated officer for the rest of her life.

A small hand slipped into hers and tugged her in the direction of the dorms, her green eyes were dragged away. Mareyo smiled and said,” Don’t worry so much. We’re all going to be fine.”

Amaya wished she could believe her.  
/  
As a wedding gift, a very expensive wedding gift that her husband had fought tooth and nail to give back, Byakuya had given the newlyweds a modern-feudal manor house. It was a relatively large property, although not anywhere near as large as the Kuchiki estate(which was conveniently right next door). When they had first moved in, she remembered it always felt too quiet and everything had looked so new and shiny that she was terrified to break anything. It was just like when she was first adopted all over again. Her husband had been more disgruntled over the idea of them having servants and he had always seemed uncomfortable knowing there were people waiting on their every hand and foot. Things had definitely warmed up and became homier once there were children racing down the halls. 

Rukia arrived to the manor in what was ,as usual, the holy grail of disasters. The servants were hurriedly trying to clean the painted handprints and barely legible kanji off of the hallway walls. The gardener was baffled as he repaired the hole in the stone wall surrounding the property. Rukia’s eye didn’t start twitching until she arrived into the dining room.

Everything was covered in rice curry. The table, the walls, the ceiling, her kids, and her idiot husband. She gaped in horror as a drop of it landed on her head, some of it sliding down onto her face. 

Her husband, who hadn’t noticed her walk in, was saying to their kids in exasperation,” Your mother’s going to kill me!”

“Ichigo!”

He whipped around,” Rukia! You’re home early!”

“I’m an hour late.”

He scratched the back of his head, brown eyes flicking towards the clock,” So you are.”

Rukia held her arms akimbo, violet eyes flashing as her gaze skipped from one member of her family to the next. When they landed on her children they softened a little. All three of them already looked reprimanded. She sighed. Let go of the small stuff.

“Come here,” she held her arms out towards them. Instantly her son, Kaito, launched himself into them. Her five-year-old buried his face into the crook of her neck and his chubby fingers threaded into her shoulder length hair. Her twin seven-year olds latched themselves on each one of her legs. Rukia allowed herself a few more moments of peace before turning towards her husband and cocking a brow in expectation.

Ichigo rolled his eyes but then leant forward and pressed a soft kiss onto her mouth. She slanted her mouth against his ,pressing closer. Kaito squirmed in between, placing a hand on his father’s face and shoving it away, snapping with childish possessiveness,” My mommy! No kissing!”

“Eeeeew,” Hisa squealed racing away with her sister, Saki, hot on her tail towards their room leaving trails of curry and rice behind them. Ichigo pulled away and completely forgetting that he also was filthy dashed after them,” Don’t you two go anywhere until you’ve had a bath!”

Rukia rolled her eyes, rubbing her son’s back absentmindedly and planting a kiss on the top of his head as he snuggled closer. Kaito, she had been told by Isshin, was exactly like Ichigo was when he was little in personality alone. His favorite person in the world was his mother and it was hard to get him farther than two feet away before he burst out into a crying fit. Despite the similar personalities, her son took after her more in looks with big violet eyes and silky, not spiky, black hair.

In fact, so far all of their children had been spared their father’s cursed orange hair. Byakuya always breathed a sigh of relief every time they came out with traditional black hair.

Her daughters, while also having her hair color, did in fact have their father’s toffee brown eyes. Rukia had to admit she was glad for that. She had been terrified that she would end up with a pack of little clones of herself walking around.  
A sudden tug of her hair and she smiled down at her son as he asked,” Bath?”

Rukia heard a large splash and girlish giggling coming from upstairs so she sighed and said,” Let’s go join them in the bath, sweetheart. Before they destroy it.”

“Again.”  
/  
“I’m bored!” Yachiru exclaimed suddenly from her desk. She had just finished eating a big bag of chocolate candy and wanted to go do something. The first rays of morning light shone through the open windows. 

“What the hell do you want me to do about it?” Ikkaku muttered, his head down on his own desk as he tried to fight off his hangover with sleep. Yumichika had opted to train with the Division today, still miffed at having been left behind the day before with Yachiru. The evil little pink-haired Fukutaichou had been given a bag of chocolate candies for breakfast as a ‘treat’ by the Fifth Seat. Ikkaku knew it was really payback.

“Are we meeting the new people today?” she asked while doodling a picture of Kenny with Nozarashi hacking at a hollow onto a report entitled ‘Food Rations Budget for Second Quarter’. Yachiru didn’t like all of the words on her coloring paper so she made sure to add lots of red for the blood splatter that way it would cover them.

“No.”

“Can we meet the new people today?”

“No.”

“Why not?” she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip petulantly. 

“Because we’re not scheduled to meet them today.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer her, only groaned and muttered,” Why me?”

Yachiru frowned as she finished drawing herself on Kenny’s shoulder, cheering him on. She had wanted to hang out with Kenny today, but she had to stay because she had a party to go to later. Yachiru didn’t particularly want to go to the party but they would have cake and goodies so she felt she had to go to at least enjoy that. It wasn’t like she didn’t like Shun -kun and Nana-chan’s kid it was just that all of them were such babies. The only kids she really liked were Ichi-kun and Roo-chan’s; Hornet-chan and Fluffhair-san’s; and Nasty-Lady-san and Guitar-Dude’s. Because Hisa and Saki liked playing with swords, while Mamorou was the only one who could match her energy level and giddiness, and Sachiko knew all the best places in the Living World to get candy.

Mei was kinda bossy and her brother, Naozumi, was even lazier than Shun-shun. Ukki and Loud Kotechin’s kids were all too well-behaved and they all pretty much looked the same so she never could tell them apart.

“When are we supposed to play with the new people?” she asked, starting a new picture on another paper that said, ‘Rules and Regulation Code 0155’. She began sketching her friends and her playing tag.

“Tomorrow morning, after the drills start,” he answered, his voice muffled by his arms. Yachiru grabbed a green color to fill in Mamorou’s hair. Tomorrow sounded so far away and she had really wanted to play with them today. There hadn’t been any new recruits since all those meanie Quincies had slaughtered all the Academy students during the war. Most of their Division had been squashed out, too. A lot of Divisions had been nearly cut in half. That’s why when the war was over so many babies kept popping out of nowhere.

She had finished Mamorou and was now working on Sachiko, choosing aquamarine for her glasses. Yachiru grabbed another handful of candy and shoved it into her mouth, chewing loudly. She didn’t see why she had to wait to see the new people. She could always just go there herself. It wasn’t like they’d be that hard to find, since she was an expert at tracking spirit energy.

Slinging her candy over her shoulder Yachiru became a blur of pink as she shunpo'd out the door, yelling behind her,” See you later, Pachinko-head! Have a nice nap!”

“Whaaa-You little brat! Get your ass back over here!” Ikkaku shouted and tried to catch up to her. 

Yachiru simply waved back at him and put out an extra burst of speed, her small pink braid trailing behind her.  
/  
“I wonder what kind of babes we’ll be seeing today,” Nakamura said, wiggling his brow suggestively. Amaya glared at him. Kisaki seemed to be daydreaming along with the little pervert.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” she growled. “The Divisions we’re going to today are mostly run by men.”

Mareyo nodded in agreement, but then her eyes got dreamy as she said,” Yeah, so it’ll be eye candy for me and Ammy today. Kuchiki-taicou is soooo hot.”

Amaya crinkled her nose in disgust,” Isn’t he the uptight noble?”

“Does it really matter if all we’re going to do is look at him?” Mareyo asked. Amaya couldn’t help but grin slyly, joining in on Mareyo’s little drool-fest even though she didn’t particularly care about the topic, “I guess you do have a point.”

The boys and Kisaki had had their fun yesterday. If they got to objectify women then she would damn well take the time to objectify some men. Besides, Captain Kuchiki’s looks were legendary. Some delusional girls claimed that he was actually a god in disguise and that he was simply looking for his bride. And that was the least ridiculous of all the theories. Amaya figures for a guy to get god-like status then he must be hella’ hot.

Mareyo started fanning herself dramatically as she leant against the wooden railing, “ I’m getting all hot and bothered just thinking about him.”

Amaya laughed as Mareyo practically swooned over the noble. Kisaki and the boys looked depressed.

“That Muguruma-fukutaichou was so pretty,” sighed Tojo. Nakamura nodded in agreement,” Yeah, but she’s married to that scary ass Captain with the silver hair. I wouldn’t want to be caught checking her out by him. That dude would probably skin someone alive.”

Kisaki shook her head furiously, her blonde braid whipping about like a snake as she protested,” Obviously, the goddess yesterday was Inoue-taichou. She was positively flawless.”

“You mean her chest was flawless,” Amaya jabbed, wagging her tongue at her friend. Kisaki, for someone so seemingly so uptight, was quite the pervert when she was in the right mindset.

“I don’t know guys,” Nakamura drawled out, slinging an arm around Amaya,” I thought the best one was Hinamori-fukutaichou. Now that was cuteness personified.”

Amaya was starting to get the idea that her three friends all had different tastes in women. Nakamura preferred them cute and petite. Kisaki the traditional sexy, curvaceous types. And Tojo liked them psychotic.

“It seems like all you guys did yesterday was check out the Divisions’ women,” Mareyo observed. Amaya smirked, seeing the deer caught in a trap look in her friends’ eyes. 

“We can’t really hold it against them since we kinda, like, do the same thing to the men,” Amaya admitted. It had been nothing more than passing glances, unlike the outright ogling that they did. Like when they had walked past that group of training Soul Reapers and a few of them had deigned to take their kosodes and shitagis off. She had taken a long slow glance at them along with Mareyo. Also, the ‘69’ tattooed on Hisagi-fukutaichou’s cheek had raised a lot of questions in the navy-haired girl’s mind. 

It wasn’t like any of them were doing anything wrong with just looking and it wasn’t like any of them were dating someone. Well, Kisaki sort of kinda was but Amaya didn’t really understand that kind of relationship so she kept her mouth shut.

Mareyo sighed, apparently thinking the same thoughts although her went into a completely different direction,” We’re so pathetic and desperate. I think we’ve been single too long.”

Amaya made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat,” I think I’d like to stay single a while longer. It’ll be hard enough when we join the Court Guard, but a relationship would be too much.”

“Eh, I guess you’re right,” Mareyo agreed, but still sighed sadly. Amaya had always figured that if the brunette wasn’t so determined to become a Stealth Force member that she’d already be living the rich, lazy life of a noble’s wife. It seemed more fitting to her sometimes ditzy outlook on life. 

Amaya casually but disdainfully peeled Nakamura’s grubby appendage off of her shoulders. She tossed her navy hair over her shoulder as she made her way down the hall. Today, they were all meeting at the wall instead of in a classroom. Kisaki and Tojo fell into step along side her, Mareyo shunpoing around them to skip in the front.

“Does anyone know the other Divisions we’re going to be at today?” Tojo asked. 

“The Sixth, Eighth, and Tenth,” Kisaki recited, ticking them off on her hand. Mareyo whipped around and squealed as she skipped backwards, her eyes shining in delight,” Three major hotties in one day! I might die!”

Amaya couldn’t help but feel that maybe Mareyo was getting a little too excited over these “hotties”. Sure, she may take a glance but she was still there to find out which Division she wanted to join. It seemed like her friends were going on a tour for good-looking people. Couldn’t they keep their heads out of the gutter for a few minutes?

Maybe she should walk alone today, that way she would really be able to try harder to focus on what the speakers were saying.  
/  
Yachiru perched on a roof, magenta eyes dancing as she waited for the new people to show up. She had managed to lose Ikkaku in a roundabout way in the Second Division compound where Stinger-Lady- taichou hadn’t been very happy to see him rampaging around. Yachiru had managed to evade the Stealth Force and had also found out the schedule for the new people today.

Now she was waiting on a building just outside the Sixth Division’s compound for the tours to come around. She chewed absentmindedly on her thumbnail. Yachiru wondered if there would be any new people that Kenny could play with. Sometimes he was able to corner Ichi but it wasn’t the same as when they had seemed to be fighting in a war every other year. There had been so much blood on him and his eyes seemed to constantly light up with the thrill of battle. His opponents hadn’t ran away from him in fear(like Ichi constantly did) and his smile after each fight would last for days and days.

And he’d been really sad ever since Braid-Lady-san had died. Yachiru didn’t understand why because Kenny had won that fight fair and square. He should’ve been happy but she had never seem him smile after he’d fought her. Yachiru tried to never bring her up as he didn’t want to talk about it.

She perked up when the first of the recruits rounded the corner and she laid down onto the roof’s warm tiles, peeking down over it to get a good look at them. Yachiru carefully flared her spiritual pressure, trying to get a read on each of them. As the droves of them passed, Yachiru crinkled her nose cutely. Most of the ones in front seemed to have steady, balanced spiritual pressure. That meant they were lacking in personality. Which was boring.

Her interest spiked when it reached the back of the group, a few of their spiritual pressures slightly wilder and not yet tamed. That meant their users had more definitive personalities than the others in the group. Fatty’s sister was one of them. Hers constantly switched from steady and calm one minute to lashing out and bouncing everywhere in the next. One of her female companions, a blonde woman with a long braid had a spiritual pressure that was relatively steady but seemed to flicker and drift. The two boys appeared to have solid spiritual pressures although the shorter one’s occasionally trembled with excitement.

Yachiru pouted. Fatty’s sister wouldn’t be joining her Division and the blonde seemed much too uptight to join. The boys were alright, but they were kinda boring and forgettable looking. Not Eleventh Division material. Kenny would eat them up in one gulp.

A long, depressed sigh and Yachiru stood up, preparing to shunpo back to her Division’s compound before Ikkaku was finished getting the snot beaten out of him by Captain Stinger-Lady. 

Then, she caught a flash of blue in the corner of her eye. Yachiru looked back down inquisitively. It was more of a navy color, actually. The person it belonged to was a scrawny little wisp of a girl. Her hair was an unnatural navy pigment but the rest of her seemed rather average. The arms peeking out from under her kisode were stick thin with delicate looking wrists that tapered towards small hands that didn’t look like they were meant for combat. She looked like one swing from Hanataro’s sword would knock her down. Yachiru roved a critical eye over her, but her eyes was still drawn to her hair. The Soul Society was known for having strange shades of hair color, Yachiru herself sporting a color more appropriate for cotton candy, but it never failed to entertain her.

She looked into the girl’s spiritual pressure and was surprised to see that it whipped and danced violently, not particularly strong yet and rather uncontrolled. Her favorite kind of spiritual type, even if it was rather weak.  
/  
Amaya fell back a little from her group, her stride shortening as she tried to discreetly separate herself from them. She really just wanted to be alone for a few minutes. It was rather ironic, she couldn’t help thinking that the ones who knew their paths seemed to walk with more confidence in their steps. At least her friends knew some kind of idea of where they were going to end up. Tojo had shown interest in joining the Seventh Division and Nakamura wanted to follow his hero, Captain Kurosaki, in the Eighth Division. 

Maybe she could join with Tojo in the Seventh for a while. 

BAM!

A loud explosion erupted in front of her and Amaya reeled back, a hand whipping around to grasp at her asauchi, only to remember all students were ordered to leave them in their dorm rooms.

“Holy fucking shit,” she snapped in frustration. Just the perfect damn time to not have a weapon. As a last resort, she pulled her fists up, shifting into a fighting stance. The dust from the impact began to drift and thin, revealing a small crater in the cement.

A pink blur hurtled towards her, getting past her defenses and wrapping around her neck.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Amaya shrieked, her face full of pink hair-or was it fur?-as she grabbed the back of the creature and struggle to pry its iron grip off of her. The thing had also wrapped its back legs around her waist. 

It had to either be some kind of monkey or a demon. With the pink coloring she would assume a demon. Although, a rather cute demon.

She was preparing to strike the little bugger in the head with her fist when a high-pitched giggle floated up from the creature. The navy-haired girl froze just as the little abomination pulled away to reveal a round face with big magenta eyes and chubby cheeks. Dear Kami, this thing was human. Or at least a Soul Reaper.

The little girl reached up with a dimpled smile and tugged on her hair, clambering up higher and sifting through the strands curiously. Amaya curled her lip in a snarl and tried to yank the little brat back down.

“Listen kid, you can’t just jump on people randomly. It tends to piss them the hell off,” she spat, irritated. 

The kid completely ignored her,” Your hair’s pretty! Even Yun-Yun-chan would like it!”

Amaya frowned, looking around to see that her classmates were nowhere nearby. Just her luck, now she was in this maze with no idea where the hell she was. The kid smacked her cheek lightly with a chubby fist, demanding attention.

“What?” she snarled. Amaya admittedly wasn’t the best when it came to children. She found they asked too many question, babbled nonsense, in general were clingy pests, and just weighed too much on her thin patience. Having one literally hanging off of her wasn’t helping while she was already stressed about being lost. Also factoring in that the little thing was the cause of her stress was making her tolerance nonexistent. 

“What’s your name? Mine’s Kusajishi Yachiru!” the little girl bubbled out. “Kenny gave it to me!”

“ Ongaku Amaya,” the navy-haired girl answered dryly,” pleasure to frickin’ meet you.” 

“That’s a good name,” ‘Yachiru’ observed. “But I’m gonna call you Ammy-chan. ”

She shrugged, not really caring either way what the kid called her. It wouldn’t be like she’d ever see her again. The Seireitei was a huge place and she doubted she’d have time to interact with people outside of the Division she joined unless it was required.

“Hey, kid, do you know how to get to the Sixth Division?” Amaya asked, noticing the shihakusho Yachiru was wearing. She was probably of noble birth or a Soul Reaper’s child. Or she stole the uniform. Whichever one it was, Amaya had to assume the brat lived here.

“Of course I do,” the pink-haired girl exclaimed eagerly,” it’s that way.”

Then she pointed in the opposite direction. Amaya frowned,” Are you sure? I think my class went the other way.”

Yachiru furiously shook her head, her pink braid smacking Amaya in the face, and said resolutely,” I know a shortcut.”

Then she swung around and wrapped herself on Amaya’s back. The navy-haired girl grimaced at the extra weight on her back, but instinctively grasped at Yachiru’s legs to make her more secure. 

Then she turned around, praying that she hadn’t just made the worst mistake in her life.  
/  
“Has anyone seen Amaya?” Mareyo asked, glancing around with a worried frown. Kisaki shrugged gracefully.

“Eh, she’s probably in the back of the group,” Nakamura said, unconcerned, scratching his ear. “Ya know how she is when she’s wigged-out.”

Mareyo sighed,” I know. I just hope she’s okay.”

They were thirty minutes into the tour, which was, sadly, not being led by the famous Kuchiki-taichou. Instead the Fukutaichou and the Third Seat were at the front explaining everything. She vaguely recognized the tall, tattooed, redhead from a few of her brother’s parties. Mareyo supposes he was good looking enough to almost make up for the absence of the Captain. The brunette wished Amaya were here to talk to. Kisaki was wonderful in her own way, but without her navy-haired friend things were getting a little dull. All of them needed to be together to have a good time.  
/  
“Brat, we’ve been walking in god damn circles,” Amaya hissed as they rounded a corner for the thousandth time. Her stomach rumbled a protest and Amaya began wishing she hadn’t snubbed the natto this morning. They had been walking for what felt like an hour and had gotten nowhere. 

She shifted the child on her back, the weight making her spine ache.

“Ooh, turn here,” squealed Yachiru, using her navy hair as reins to indicate which direction she wanted to go.

She ground her teeth together, wanting to dump the kid and try finding a place to eat. They hadn’t gone near the restaurant or shopping districts yesterday but she was pretty sure that with how hungry she was all should would have to do was follow her nose. Which was starting to sound like a better plan than listening to Yachiru’s random ass directions.

Yachiru plopped her head against her neck and whined,” I’m hungry.”

“How do you think I feel?”

The kid perked up again,” Hey we’re here!”

Relieved, Amaya slackened her grip on Yachiru and the little girl slipped off quickly. Then, she grasped her hand and began tugging her forward.

“Lookie, Ammy-chan! We made it!”

She blew her hair out of her eyes and looked at the sign over the Division compound they had arrived at. It wasn’t as fancy as the other three she had seen. There wasn’t even a wall to keep it enclosed and the style of the front building looked very under assuming and slightly worn down. The sign painted proudly over the front wall proclaimed the kanji for ‘11’. They were at the Eleventh Division. The fucking Eleventh Division. Five Divisions over where she was supposed to be at. No wonder it had taken so long to get here.

Amaya pinched the bridge of her nose, lips twitching as she calmly asked,” Why aren’t we at the Sixth Division?”

Yachiru spun and danced around, waving her arms excitedly,” Because it’s more fun over here than at mean ole Byakki’s.”

“Byakki…?” she wondered. ”Who the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“Byakki is Byakki.”

Well, Amaya knew she was going nowhere with this. Then a thought occurred to her. Yachiru couldn’t possibly be a part of the Eleventh Division. No way would they ever let a kid join the most bloodthirsty Division of all time. This had to be some sick, twisted joke. Either that or the universe just felt like fucking with her today. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, trying to figure a way out of this mess.

“Where are your parents?” she asked, hoping maybe at least they would be able to help her out. Yachiru paused in her little dance.

“Kenny’s on training duty today.”

“He’s your father?” Amaya cocked her head to the side. What kind of crazy person lets their kid call them by their first name? Maybe it was a Seireitei fad or something.

“Yup,” she nodded eagerly,” he’s the best fighter in all of the three dimensions!”

“Sure he is,” the navy-haired girl agreed half-heartedly. All kids seemed to think their parents were the best at everything. The memory was hazy, but she was pretty sure that when she was alive she had thought her mother was the best singer on Earth and that her father was the best something or the other. Amaya couldn’t recall anything else about them so she dropped that thought.

“Uh-huh. That’s why his name is Kenpachi! ‘Cause he’s number one!”

Amaya froze. That little brat couldn’t possibly saying what she thinks she’s saying. There was no fucking way she had been toting around one of the most vicious and ruthless killing machine’s daughter this whole time. That man was a fucking legend. There was no way that ball of adorable pink fluff was his kid. She couldn’t believe it. She refused to believe it. 

Said adorable pink fluff reached into her hakama’s pocket and dug out an armband, which she proudly showed Amaya. It was a Fukutaichou’s badge and once again the kanji ‘11’ and the Division symbol were printed there in bold.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

The Kusajishi Yachiru she had been toting around all day was the Kusajishi-fukutaichou. Never in Amaya’s wildest imaginations would she have thought that any Fukutaichou would be a child.

She was momentarily startled from her daze when her stomach rumbled even louder this time. Amaya remembered her manners, and though it humiliated her to do so, she bowed,” I am sorry for any inconvenience I have caused you today. I also apologize for my rude language and attitude towards you.”

A chubby hand patted her bowed head and Yachiru proclaimed,” It’s all right, Ammy-chan. You’re fun to play with. You don’t have to start acting like someone you’re not.”  
/  
Yachiru couldn’t help giggling at the prank she had played on her new friend. She wasn’t stupid and had known the whole time that Ammy-chan hadn’t known who she was. It had been funny the way the navy-haired girl had cursed and spat with irritation, it reminded her of the men in her Division. The look on her face when Yachiru had shown her the missing pieces to the puzzle had been utterly priceless.

She grasped and pulled Ammy-chan into the compounds entrance-which simply led to a mostly unused dojo. Except for a few demonstrations and random fights which had destroyed or severely damaged the building they pretty much preferred the large outdoor arena. Needless to say, the pink-haired girl knew none of her Division would be in there.

“Listen, Kusajishi-fukutaichou, I don’t think I’m supposed to be here right now,” Ammy-chan started.

Yachiru would not lose her new friend to another Division. She was hers now and she would be her Ammy-chan.

She sat the older girl down and said cheekily,” I’m gonna go get us some food from the mess hall. You stay right here.”

Then, Yachiru shunpo'd out the window, landing on the mess hall’s roof. She grabbed an outstretching roof ornament and swung into the kitchen. The few in the Eleventh Division who could actually cook (barely) were busy preparing a common (because it was the simplest of recipes) chazuke-a simple dish with green tea poured over rice. She eyed the few topping options that were already prepared; umeboshi, nori, mentaiko, katsuobushi, scallions, and wasabi. 

Yachiru snatched up two plates and began piling on food with her hands, since she didn’t know what Ammy-chan would like she just added a little bit of everything onto her plate. For herself she put umeboshi and wasabi as toppings. 

The pink-haired girl, throughout all of this, made no attempts to hide what she was doing. The men in the kitchens simply all shared on long glance that seemed to say that they would rather ignore the matter than try to figure out why the Fukutaichou was stocking enough food to last three weeks. It was just so much simpler if you just rolled with it.

She went out through the front door this time, one of the men sighing as he opened it for her after she had rammed into it three times, spilling green tea everywhere. Yachiru carefully-for her, anyway-walked back over to the dojo. A trail of wet cement and dirt was left in her wake.

Yachiru used her foot to nudge open the loosely-hinged door. Ammy-chan was still where she had left her, looking irritated while she tapped a blunt fingernail on the wooden floorboards. The pink-haired girl sat down across from her, setting down the large tray with their food.  
/  
Her teachers were going to murder her because a bratty Fukutaichou wanted her to play house or whatever the fuck they were doing. The navy-haired girl sifted with her chopsticks through her chazuke that seemed to be seriously lacking in the green tea and was filled to the brim with toppings. She pushed aside the nori, umeboshi, and the scallions. She just had to grimace and bear it with the harsh, spicy taste of wasabi. The munchkin was shoving food in and licking the bowl like little barbarian. Amaya fully expected her to eat the bowl afterwards.

“You’re going to have eventually let me go back to the Academy,” she commented dryly, wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

Yachiru stuck out her tongue-which still had chewed up rice on it-and proclaimed,” Nuh-uh. You’re gonna stay here with Kenny, Pachinko-head, Yun-Yun, and all the others here!”

The kid gestured and danced as she continued,” You’ll be able to stay in the girls’ barracks with me and we’ll be able to train together! I’ll introduce you to the Women’s Soul Reapers Association!”

As the brat prattled on and on, Amaya felt like she was a pet being adopted. All she needed was a sparkly pink collar-which actually sounded really cute-and a nametag. She pushed away her bowl and stretched out crossing her legs at the ankles and leaning back on her hands. 

A noticeably wet and sticky hand tapped on her leg and she glanced down to see a still smiling Yachiru,” Will you join the Eleventh? Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaasssse?”

Amaya sighed,” Fine, whatever.”

It wasn’t like she had her heart set out for a specific Division. Besides, as annoying as Yachiru was, she was a nice kid and seemed hell-bent on making her a member.

Yachiru squealed and leapt onto her, crushing the older girl into a hug. Amaya tried to get out of the grip, wheezing and gasping for air,” Alright, kid, alright. Just don’t kill me before I can join.”  
/  
“Hi Yachiru-chan! Mareyo said, waving at the little pink-haired girl that was on Amaya’s back. The navy-haired girl gave her friend a strained half-smile.

“Hi Fatty’s pretty sister!” she eagerly waved back.

“Who’s this little cutie?” Nakamura asked, ruffling Yachiru’s pink hair and messing up the braid. The little girl angled her neck and sank her teeth deep into his hand. Nakamura groaned in pain and tried to pry his hand out of her jaws, then he howled as she bit deeper.

“Amaya get her fangs out of my hand,” he pleaded desperately.

The navy-haired girl shot him a withering glance and shrugged,” You shouldn’t have touched her hair.”

Maybe being in the Eleventh Division wouldn’t be so bad, as long as she had Yachiru for entertainment.

Mareyo danced nervously, her hands fluttering about between the space where Yachiru was biting Nakamura,” Okay, Yachiruchan, honey, could you please let go of Nakamura’s hand? I think you may have broken some of the bones…”

Yachiru reluctantly unclasped her mouth, wiping and spitting as she pulled away. 

Dazed, Nakamura stared at the blood running down his hand,” The little brat really drew blood.”

The pink-haired girl thrust an accusing finger at him,” Stupid-face ruined my hair!”

“Well, you bit my damn hand!” he pointed right back.

“You’re a meanie!” she yelled, beating her fists in the air, unbalancing Amaya with her movement.

“You’re an even bigger meanie,” Nakamura countered, turning away and sticking out his tongue.

As the two continued to trade insults, Amaya tried her best to zone out of the conversation but they remained constantly overly loud to where no one can annoy them.

“Oh for the love of-SHUT UP!”


	3. Academy Arc Fini

“Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?!” screeched Ms. Shina, tugging at her own hair in frustration. The woman looked to be at her wits end.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Amaya half-yelled back, her fists clenched at her side. The sun had already set and the cool night air pierced through her kisode and she crossed her arms. Yachiru had conveniently shot off right after leading her back to the Academy, leaving Amaya to bear the full responsibility with no credible excuse.

“You,” the woman breathing in a hissing breath,” are banned from participating in the tours from now on and-”

“Why? I already told you it wasn’t my fault!”

“And you will report to detention in Professor Ebisawa’s classroom everyday . You will remain in his care for the duration of the tours.”

“Really? Egghead? That asshole already hates me and now you’re going to force me to stay in there because of one fuck up?!” the navy-haired girl snarled, hugging her arms tighter around her chest. 

“Language!” Ms. Shina barked reprovingly,” And this isn’t your first offense, young lady. You always skip classes, run off and party on the weekends, and are constantly disrespectful towards your teachers. I have overlooked this long enough. In less than a weeks time you will be on your own in the Seireitei and it isn’t easy over there. They will not tolerate such behavior.”

The woman spun around on her heel, flinging open the dorm’s doors, “It’s about time you learned that.”

Great. Just fucking great. Amaya clenched her jaw and ran a hand through her hair in frustration to keep from saying anything else that could get her into anymore trouble.  
/  
Yachiru had rushed back in time for cake and candy. She had stuffed some in her mouth, waved at her friends and shot back off. Mamorou had watched her enviously as she shunpo’d away, as if he had wanted to do the same thing. Just as quickly as she had been there, she left.

She had Kenny to go home to.

Right now she waited patiently in her pink bed for him to come in and tell her a bedtime story. Ever since she had been really little it had been a tradition between the two of them. No matter the horrible conditions, her Kenny would always tell her a bedtime story. Every night. No exceptions.

His heavy footsteps stomped loudly on the floorboards outside, Kenny’s large size making them creak and groan under his weight. Her door was flung open and Yachiru bounced in her bed, pink hair loose and floating like a halo around her head. She pounced onto him, wrapping her arms around his thick neck. Kenny’s home! Kenny’s home!

“Didja chop anyone up today? Was it fun? How much blood was there?” she gleefully asked, unconsciously checking to make sure he wasn’t injured.

“Just a few weakling hollows,” he grunted, setting her back down on her bed, sitting down next to it. Yachiru crawled underneath the hot pink covers with dancing blue bunnies and looked up expectantly at him. Kenny scratched his chin thoughtfully and she could already tell tonight’s story was going to be epic. They usually were when he actually tried to think them through.

“Once upon a fuckin’ time or some shit like that,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning onto the bed, “ there was a big ass dragon named Shukuteki.”

“What color was he?” she piped up.

“He’ll be whatever damn color you want.”

“Hmmm. I like black.”

“Fine,” he grunted and then continued on,” there was a big ass black dragon named Shukuteki. He was larger than a mountain and could eat entire villages with one gulp. His feet caused the ground to shake wherever he walked. Blood was always dried around his mouth from his victories. One day, the big dragon had just finished eating a flock of sheep and it owners. Their limbs and blood and guts just fucking everywhere.” Kenny gestured wildly with his hands, eyes lighting up at the gore that was in his mind’s eye. Yachiru watched, enraptured.

“Then,” his voice went all quiet,” out of the bushes a tiny little shit of a sheepdog stumbles out. Shukuteki was full so he just watched the little brat crawl around sniffing at the blood. When she got to the head of the flock’s owner, the little shit just wagged its tail. Then with no fear in the whole fucking world, the tyke crawls straight up to the dragon and licks its claws even though they were still wet with the blood of everything she had ever known.”

The pink-haired girl snuggled down into her pillow, yawning, her eyelids drooping. Still, she tried to stay awake. There was always a name. Names were important to the stories because everything needed a name.

“Instead of leaving the brat pup to die, he decided to keep the fearless thing. And he called her Totoichi.”

Precious blood. A good name, she decided. Sleepily, she asked,” Did the sheepdog and the dragon go on lots of adventures?”

“A shit ton. They even met new adversaries for the dragon to fight that wouldn’t die. They gained two annoying fucking sidekicks; Pikokku the preening peacock and Pachinko the mole rat. Beri, the orange lion was his greatest opponent-”  
“And best friend,” she reminded, eyes shut,” ‘cause they have lots of fun playing together.”

“Sure,” Kenny grunted, “ they had fun beating the shit out of each other.”

Eyes shut, she evened out her breathing and waited. A large hand set down on top of her head, smoothing down her hair. Yachiru breathed in his scent- the familiar one of sweat and blood with just a hint of soap. The little girl felt her body relax and her mind took her away to flying on a dragon’s back high in the great blue sky.  
/   
“How much trouble are you in?” Mareyo asked, brushing her wet hair with a jade comb. Her brow was pinched in concern. Amaya collapsed onto her bed, face first, not wanting to answer her friend’s question. Her hands gripped and twisted on the blanket in frustration. 

The one time she’s actually not doing something wrong she gets in trouble. The week of graduation. It was her last few days before she had to leave this hellhole and actually do something with her life. Amaya had been hoping that she could spend all of this week making memories with her friends and not be stressed out. But now she was basically under house arrest while her friends were able to go off and have fun without her. It wasn’t fair.

And she had to spend the week with Egghead. Fuck it all to hell.

Amaya turned her head to the side to mutter against the skin of her arm,” I have to spend the whole damn week with Egghead.”

Then she turned back to her pillow, silently smothering herself.

Mareyo patted the backof her head delicately, “Oh, that’s awful. What kind of sadist would do that to another person?”

“Ms. Fpina,” her voice muffled against the fabric. It was getting uncomfortably warm without fresh air. Amaya felt she should probably drop the theatrics soon before she actually did suffocate. 

“Ms. Shina?” the noble exclaimed in shock. “But she’s usually so sweet.”

Amaya rolled onto her back, navy blue hair netting in front of her face. She idly pushed the strands out of her face,” Yeah, well, apparently she wasn’t feeling too fuckin’ sweet. It wasn’t even my fault this time!”

She practically wailed out the last part, arms indicating her distress with a wide gesture before letting them fall off the sides of the bed. Her green eyes once more stared at the stain on her wall. Apparently while they were gone it had morphed into a cat. Her eyes squinted, noticing the darker streaks. Maybe a tiger. Something feline.

“I just wished she’d have listened to me instead of just going off like she did. Like as if I single-handedly ruined everything,” Amaya confessed.

“Maybe if I told her-”

“Don’t bother,” she cut her friend off, “ you’ll only get in trouble, too.”

Mareyo frowned, her brows furrowing uncharacteristically,” I just don’t understand why they have to be so mean to you!”

Amaya could guess why. She was friends with troublemakers and usually ended up in the middle of some shenanigan, she went out with said miscreants and partied arriving back at the dorm drunk, she talked back to teachers, she bitched to other students-generally not the model student. It didn’t matter that she told the truth. No one ever trusts someone labeled as a ‘delinquent’. In one small corner of her mind, she could admit that Ms. Shina did have a reason to be pissed. Her belligerence shut that side up quickly. It was clearly bias and dislike that had caused her circumstance.   
/  
“Ms. Ongaku.”

“Egghead,” she greeted, trudging towards her assigned seat, conveniently close to his so he could keep an eye on her. She folded her arms over the desktop and laid her head down, eyes blinking sleepily.

“Ms, Shina informed me of your most recent lapse into stupidity,” his annoyingly deep voice cut into her sleep-fogged thoughts. Amaya, her face turned away from him, rolled her eyes.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, you never were the brightest of the bunch. Although, I do admit the level of your stupidity this time reaches new heights. Do you know what would have happened had you been attacked? As peaceful as the Seireitei is compared to the Rukongai there are still dangers. Even worse dangers when you consider-”

Shut up, shut up, shut up. The student repeated that chant over and over in her head hoping that maybe he would pick up on her mood and mercifully leave her alone.

Instead, he just kept right on talking.  
/  
Yumichika snickered to himself as Ikkaku struggled not to wince as he stood up from his bed. Dark bleeding bruises and shallow cuts decorated much of his body. Captain Soi Fon hadn’t shown any slack when dealing with the trespasser. He was sure Ikkaku would’ve enjoyed the fight much more if he hadn’t been mid-chase.

He ran a brush elegantly through his already perfectly straight, silken locks, “ You couldn’t watch a child for one day? And you lost to Captain Soi Fon?”

The Fifth seat had bitten his tongue yesterday when he had arrived back and seen his partner so beat up, Yachiru nowhere in sight. Now, though, he couldn’t resist rubbing salt into the wounds(figuratively).

“Fuckin’ ninja bitch has it out for me,” the bald man grumbled,” and that damn kid is a nuisance.”

Yumichika tossed his hair around, admiring the way it caught the light in his peripheral vision. He had much better things to worry about than those two imbeciles tearing up the Seireitei for what to have been the third time this month. Honestly, it was like he had to watch two children instead of one. He didn’t even want to think about the other Divisions whose Captains and/ or Lieutenants had more than one child. Especially the Eight Division. The Kurosaki’s had adorable children, but they made Yachiru seem tame and well-mannered.

He caught the longer strands of hair in the front and dexterously braided them with skilled fingers. Afterwards, he cut off Ikkaku’s grumblings and self-pity to call over his shoulder as he headed out the door,” Good luck watching Yachiru today. The two of you have a patrol together. Try not to kill one another.”  
/  
“What’s your impression of the new recruits?” Rukia asked as she slipped an arm through the sleeve of her kosode. It had been a question she had had yesterday, but had forgotten while taking care of the kids.

Ichigo yawned, eyes still cloudy from sleep, “ Most of them are pretty uptight, but a few of them seem like they’ll become alright Soul Reapers.”

“Any I should look out for while giving the tour on Thursday?”

“Omaeda’s sister,” he answered,” and a couple of boys - I forget their names - but they would lose focus and want to wander off. Little shits,” he grumbled the last part. There was no real bite in the curse, she noted. The dark-haired woman deviously wished all the troublemakers would join his Division as payback for all the hell he’d caused for other authority figures in the past.

“Only three gave you trouble?” she wondered aloud. “ I would’ve thought there’d have been more troublemakers than that. I mean, you had a whole pack of delinquents following you around in high school.”

“Delinquents? What the hell are you talking about?” Ichigo glared at her, pulling his hakama on. “I only hung out with Chad, Keigo, and Mizuiro before you showed up. Then you and your damned Soul Reaper friends turned us into delinquents! Making Chad and me skip class to clean up your messes. “

“I-we-” she sputtered before thrusting her arm forward and whacking him on his bare chest,” You were a delinquent long before I showed up, mister-I-can-call-an-ambulance-ahead-of-time-just-to-piss-my-enemies-off!” Oh, yeah, Chad had included that in his best man speech at their wedding (the speech was surprisingly long…) and she hadn’t believed Ichigo’s arrogance.

“Are you ever going to let that go?” he groaned as he secured his zanpakuto blades onto his back. “ I was in middle school and we hadn’t even me-”

His sentence was left unfinished when the door to their room burst open, their youngest crying loudly. Instinctively, Rukia raced over and gathered him up in her arms, one eye on the door and one hand on her sword. Even Ichigo’s hand flew up to his sword’s hilt in alarm. They both knew that there was nothing in the house that could harm Kaito, but assuming the worst was usually in the back of their minds. Terror that their children would be injured or killed without their protection.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she rubbed a hand along his back as he sobbed into her shoulder. Ichigo walked over, worry creasing his brow, asked, “ Was it a bad dream?”

Kaito somberly nodded his head against her shoulder, getting her uniform wet with his tears. Rukia glanced at the clock. It seemed like they would both be late for work today. They couldn’t just leave him without calming him down. 

“Can you tell Mommy and Daddy about it?” she coaxed. 

The little boy sniffled, pulling away from her shoulder to look up with watery violet eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks. His bottom lip trembled as he spoke, “Th-there were monster everywhere. They ate you and Daddy and Uncle Byakki and Uncle Renji and Grandpa and…and…”

Kaito trailed off, his voice turning into a blubber of incoherent choking words. His head ducked back into the crook of her neck, holding fast with his small hands. Rukia hummed a little tune before saying,” Monsters can’t hurt us, sweetie,-”

“Well, not right at the moment,” Ichigo observed. Rukia was tempted to shoo her husband away. The orange-headed idiot was born with foot in mouth syndrome. He’d probably cause more nightmares than to help their kids recover from one. She shot him a dark look and he shrugged helplessly. He believed in comforting his kids, but not into lying to them. There were bad things out there that they needed to be prepared for.

Ichigo laid a hand on his son’s dark head, stepping closer. Kaito turned his head just enough to look at his father.

“Listen, buddy,” he started,” do you think your mom or I would let monsters harm you?” Kaito shook his head furiously.

“Do you think a big, dumb monster could take on your Uncles or your Gramps?”

“I thought you said Grandpa was stupid. If you’re stupid how can you fight?” Kaito managed to ask, lifting his head a little. Rukia laughed a little, looking amusedly at Ichigo. She knew just how to answer that and Ichigo had set the trap himself.

“Daddy’s stupid and he can fight,” she filled their son in, “ Uncle Renji and him are the biggest idiots Mommy knows and they’re some of the best fighters in the Seireitei. Even brain dead fools can swing a sword with skill. Your Daddy was just being mean to your sweet old Grandpa.”

Ichigo scowled at being called stupid, his frown deepening in disagreement at Rukia calling his Dad ‘sweet’. He bit his tongue from protesting when Kaito sat up, violet eyes puffy and red.

“No monsters?” he mumbled. “ Everyone okay?”

“Yes, sweetie,” Rukia answered, “ no monsters are going to get anyone.”

Eventually, they managed to make it down to the dining room where plates had already been spread out for the family. For Ichigo and their eldest, Saki, they had a bowl of chocolate cereal puffs with a glass of milk. Saki’s eyes kept on drifting closed and she would lean forward as if she were about to fall asleep before springing back up with forced open wide brown eyes. Sana, slightly more noble-like than her sister, was an early riser and was already neatly eating her daikon and tofu boiled in broth. She also had a bowl of rice porridge with a pickled plum on top and fried eggs. 

Rukia set Kaito in his chair, her son wrinkling his small nose at the meal before him. Every family had one and Kaito was the picky eater of the Kurosaki family. What he likes one day he may loathe the next. She was pretty sure a few days ago waffles with chocolate drizzle were his favorite meal in the world. Hell, she personally thought they were delicious. Rukia considered whether today was really a day she wanted to have another fight with her son to eat his food. 

Deciding not to bother, she grabbed his plate and set it in front of her seat. Rukia questioned her baby on what he would like to eat and sent one of the cooks to make scrambled eggs. Kaito smiled at getting his way.

Children. Such wonderful, simultaneously nerve-wracking concepts. One minute they were happy, the next angry or crying(sometimes both). They were always asking for something or needed help, unable to really fend for themselves. The twins were self-sufficient now but when they had been younger would always throw a fit if they didn’t get their way. Rukia and Ichigo dreaded the day when they were teenagers and that same problem would rear its ugly head again. If the children weren’t conspiring with one another they would turn against each other. Kaito, more often than not, would start a fight with his sisters just for attention. Messes, fights, fun. Family life. 

Ichigo and her really had their work cut out for them with three children. She couldn’t wait to tell him that the fourth was on the way.  
/  
At lunchtime, Amaya was mercifully allowed to escape for a few minutes to go to a local restaurant in the nearest town as long as she brought Egghead some food back. He hadn’t specified anything, so she was tempted to just bring him a plain bowl of uncooked rice and tell Egghead to fix his lunch his goddamn self and that she wasn’t his fucking servant.

But since she didn’t want to end up not graduating, Amaya kept her eyes away from the rice seller’s cart as she passed before she gave into temptation.

Instead of grabbing their meals and returning like a good girl, she plopped her skinny ass on a grassy embankment just outside the Academy walls and spread her own food out for her to eat. Egghead could eat his cold, for all she cared.

As she was eating a chillingly familiar high-pitched squeal of joy made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The pink demon was near. Oh hell, she couldn’t be dragged about today as well. Then she really wouldn’t graduate. She was tempted to leave the food and make a run for it, but she hadn’t eaten katsudon in a while.

“You can’t catch me!’ the little girl was singing at the top of her lungs, somewhere out of sight,” Paaachiiinnko-heeeeeaaaad!”

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” a male voice shrieked.

There were several loud crashes and flames began climbing high in the sky, smoke covering the blue sky. Amaya blinked, hurriedly stuffing down her meal. At least her friends and her had never caused property damage before. If a Soul Reaper destroyed property did he/she have to pay for it out of pocket or was that the administrations responsibility? Maybe they had to spend all their resources constantly repairing the Seireitei, which she had been told was almost always getting destroyed. She might have to look into that. She was pulled out of her thoughts when an even louder clatter of noise erupted from the direction Yachiru was in. They appeared to slowly be moving in the direction away from her, although the sounds of their fight sounded closer than they actually were.

Finished with her food, Amaya casually strolled back to class, but her strides did lengthen when the noises unexpectedly began to shift towards where she was at.

Egghead sniffed at the bowl that had been slapped on his desk, a few lumps landing on the wood.

“This is gyudon?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It has onions in it.”

“What the hel-ck do you think is in a gyudon?” she demanded, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest.

“I know onions are traditionally in the recipe,” he snapped, adjusting his collar haughtily. “But I discreetly remember asking that you tell them to hold the onions and add raw egg.”

“No, you didn’t”, Amaya rolled her eyes. Egghead was almost as bad of a picky eater as she was, although he made a bigger deal out of it than she did. He could just whine and complain, there was nothing she could fucking do about it. He could either eat the meal or starve.

“One day those eyes of yours are going to roll right out of your head,” Egghead said, before continuing on,” I did tell you I requested not to have onions”

His large hand pushed the bowl condescendingly away from him, refusing to touch the meat that had fallen on his desk, “ Take it back.”

“What? NO!”

He nodded affirmative,” Yes. You will take it back and demand they fix this error.”

“There was no error!” Amaya shouted. “You didn’t tell me to tell them to take off the fuc-dgeing onions!” 

Ms. Shina sighed, in the doorway watching the two squabble. She could feel another migraine building. The teacher closed her eyes and leant against the doorframe, rubbing her fingers on her temple. She had thought that Amaya would’ve calmed down without her friends to show off to and that Egg-Ebisawa would have actually tried to talk sense into the girl. He did teach Amaya’s best subject, so the two must get along on some level.

A sudden shout and her eyes popped open to see Amaya lift her desk over her head and throw it at Professor Ebisawa. She felt a brief moment of amazement. How could such a tiny girl lift such a heavy desk? The large man shouted out a kido- she couldn’t tell which one in her state of shock- and the desk halted in midair, exploding in a brilliant burst of bright red flames.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” he roared. Amaya stuck her tongue out childishly at him.

Deciding this was enough, Ms. Shina hurriedly dashed between the two holding her arms out in a placating manner.

“Alright you two, enough is enough. Amaya, apologize to Professor Ebisawa,” she demanded. 

“But he-”

“Now!”

“Fine,” the navy-haired girl snapped, gritting her teeth,” Sorry Egghe-”

“Professor Ebisawa,” reminded Ms. Shina in a strained voice, tapping her foot expectantly.  
“Professor Eg-bisawa,” her lips twisted painfully over the words, a foul taste on her tongue,” I guess I’m sorry for whatever I did to you that made Ms. Shina get pissy.”

Ms. Shina’s jaw dropped at the student’s words, clearly at a loss as to what to say. Egghead seemed to be reveling in the drama that was unfolding in his classroom. Must be better than those daytime Living World dramas he was obsessed with and never shut the hell up about.

“I-you-Prof-wha-”, her dorm mother tried to form the start of several questions and/or exclamations.

Taking advantage, Amaya asked,” Can I go now?”

Mute, Ms. Shina nodded. Amaya smirked victoriously on the way out of the classroom. She knew this would probably come back to bite her in the ass tomorrow, but for now she felt pretty damn good. Even though she had to spend another few days with Egghead.  
/  
Yachiru sat on the highest branch of a sakura tree, her hair blending into the pink petals. She shielded her eyes and peered down into the large crowd of people down below in the massive courtyard. Her magenta eyes sought out for a speck of blue.

“Who’re we looking for?” Sachiko asked, twirling a black curl around her index finger. With her other hand, the seven year old adjusted her glasses. Her companion was a strange sight in Living World clothes; a worn ruffle-collared button down and jeans with flip-flops adorning her manicured feet . 

“Ammy-Am, the one who’s gonna join my Division,” explained the pink-haired girl.

“Boo hair?” a chirpy voice asked. Yachiru smiled down at Mamorou, the three year old unnaturally at ease balancing on the very tip of the branch he was on. He turned to look up at her with wide shining brown eyes, expecting an answer. His light purple yukata glowed where the afternoon sunlight filtered through the sakura petals.

“Yeah, she has pretty blue hair!” Yachiru took it upon herself to try and teach the younger boy a new phrase.

“Pwetty boo hair,” Mamorou mimicked her to the best of his ability, smiling happily.

“We might be able to see her when she’s called up during the ceremony,” Sachiko observed, her turquoise eyes flicking through the crowd with borderline disinterest.

“What ceremony?”

“You’ll see.”  
/  
Amaya was nervously wiggling in her seat as she waited for her name to be called. Mareyo, squeezed her friend’s hand reassuringly. She thanked the universe that their names were next to each other in alphabetical order. If she had to be alone like Kisaki, she’d die. Of course with a last name like Fujimori, Kisaki didn’t have to wait long before being called up. At the front of the assembly, a large decorated platform stood with all of the professors, instructors, and dorm parents standing. Representatives from each Division stood along the sides, observing the candidates. No Captains were present, but she did recognize Lieutenant Muguruma, Lieutenant Kurosaki, and Lieutenant Hinamori from pictures she had seen and the brief few days she had been allowed on the Seireitei tour.

Headmaster Ippitsusai was giving a speech about how they had all worked extremely hard for this and that their lives were just now beginning yada, yada, yada. Amaya knew she was supposed to listen and feel inspired by his words, but all she could focus on was the platform that would officially start the next phase of her life. She know, because she actually read this in a book once, that once you are a full-fledged Soul Reaper there is no way out, no retirement, no quitting. It was a lifetime commitment. There was no turning back.

They started calling up names, the students standing up to walk onto the platform and accept their shihakusho with their asauchi(or zanpakuto if they had already obtained one while still in the Academy) from whichever teacher gave it to them. Usually the teachers who recommended their favorite student to Divisions handed them the items or whichever teacher just ended up with that name. The asauchi was just the ones they had been issued during the end of their first year, being reissued now as more of a tradition. After they received their shihakusho and asauchi, the student would walk to stand next to the Division representative.

When they got to Kisaki’s name the blonde walked calmly onto the platform, her golden braid catching the sun’s light. Nothing seemed to be phasing her as she gave a little smile as she received her shihakusho and sword. Amaya saw her lips move as she thanked the professor she’d received them from, Professor Hisui Jippensha; the Kido instructor. 

A loud round of applause sounded from the back of the family attendees section. Amaya scowled. Looked like Kisaki’s many girlfriends had decided to come. As Kisaki made her way towards the Third Division representative, she shot her little harem a smothering glance. Amaya rolled her eyes as one of them squealed in excitement.

“Tojo Funakoshi,” the Headmaster called a few minutes later. 

Nakamura had already had his name called(his last name being Chikanatsu), making a complete spectacle of himself as he blew kisses at the crowd and stuck his middle fingers at the teachers, but smiled and kissed the cheek of Professor Xiao Ibi; the Geography of Living World and Soul Society teacher as well as the Hakuda instructor. She swatted him away, handing him his uniform and asauchi with a roll of her eyes. He smiled good-naturedly, walking backwards off the platform and high-fiveing the representative of the Eighth Division, a tall man with slicked back black hair.

Tojo was much more reserved, nervously shuffling up the steps. He almost dropped the uniform when he received them. Amaya watched curiously as he made his way towards the Seventh Division representative where a young woman smiled warmly at him, shaking his hand. 

An hour later, Amaya could feel the wasps in her stomach and she almost wanted to just run up there now and get this misery over with. The heat was starting to become unbearable and her back was started to ache from sitting down for so long. Mareyo’s grasp on her hand had turned into a death grip as their names drew closer and closer. The brunette was trembling and her eyes would constantly shoot over to the black clad Stealth Force representative and then back to the platform. Amaya nudged her in the ribs, hoping to snap her out of her daze, but it didn’t work.

“Mareyo Omaeda,” the deep voice resounded. 

Mareyo was frozen, staring dead ahead.

Amaya hissed under her breath as their peers turned to look at the noble curiously, a few smirking at her demise,” Mare, move.”

Mareyo blinked and trembled. The navy-haired girl sighed and then pried Mareyo’s fingers from her own. She did the only thing she could think of and pinched her friend’s arm as hard as she could. That drew a response as the noble yelped and stood up, power walking towards the platform.

Amaya could see Mareyo blush and apologize as she received her articles, but Professor Paburo Raikatuji only smiled good-naturedly. Mareyo’s shoulders were squared as she walked over to the Stealth Force representative. The brunette extended her arm for a friendly handshake, but the person only stared blankly at her outstretched hand. Amaya scowled. Rude ass ninja wannabe.

“Amaya Ongaku.”

She gulped and wiped her palms on her hakama as she stood up, making her way towards the platform. The long stretch of grass seemed to go on for miles. Thousands of faces swam in the corners of her vision. Her eyes remained focused on the steps. Focused on the small goal to reach the steps that appeared to be such a long ways away. She sped up her speed slightly.

Amaya plastered a cocky smile on her face, one that was more of a default setting than an actual expression of her feelings. It was one she usually wore when she strode into class late with a hangover. 

There would be no more classes with hangovers, no more dorm rooms, no more classes, no more Kido practices, no more late night study sessions, no more breaks, no more lessons, no more teachers, no more books. Everyone of those no mores rang with every step she took, adding weight to her feet. She could feel her Academy days already slipping away and leaving. As she walked up the steps, a new void was left where the Academy had been. The school uniform, which she had practically lived in for six years, now felt itchy and foreign.

Her green eyes fell onto the shihakusho and her beloved asauchi draped over the black cloth. She didn’t notice which Professor held them in their grasp as she made her way across the wooden stage. Her hands didn’t waver as she gathered the fabric and sword into her arms. Her asauchi purred as her fingers glided over the blue and yellow hilt.

A cough startled her out of her trance and she looked up, her heart in her throat to see the last person she would’ve expected to give her the graduation symbols. Shock coursed through her as she met the familiar mud brown gaze of Professor Ebisawa. Amaya scowled up at him.

She greeted him with a cold,” Egghead.”

“For the record, I drew the short straw to get this privilege,” he quipped, but his voice sounded croaky and rough. Amaya noticed with horror that his eyes were shining with unshed tears and there was an unmistakable trace of pride in his gaze. Amaya rolled her eyes and said sarcastically,” Now don’t go being all emotional on me now, Egghead. All your yolk might leak out.”

“I hate you so much,” he sobbed, ducking his head into the cloth of his sleeve to wipe his leaking eyes. 

Amaya smiled pleasantly, shooting him the bird as she turned on her heels to get off the platform. A new wave of confidence entered her gait and she took the steps down and turned in the direction of the Eleventh Division representative. 

He was an overtly attractive man with porcelain skin and silky black hair loose except for a single braid framing his flawless face. Was it emasculating to think a man was beautiful? Just looking at him made her think maybe she should’ve been born with a penis. Damn. To put it simply: Narcissus would fall in love with this man or kill himself over not being the most gorgeous in the universe. She could admit, noting his orange feather lashes and orange tufts sticking out behind his ears that he wasn’t her type and that she most likely wasn’t his.

His lip curled up in a sneer and suddenly that image of beauty began to fade. Amaya smirked and he glowered, clearly wanting to be anywhere’s else but here. She moved to stand behind him with a few other students who’d picked the Eleventh Division, none of which she really knew. 

“Amaya Ongaku,” she decided to introduce herself.

“I heard,” the man snippily answered, running a loving hand through his hair,” although don’t expect me to remember it. Looking at you, you probably won’t last a day in the Eleventh Division.”

Amaya wanted to snap something back, but for once curbed her tongue. This man was most likely a higher up so he wasn’t to be fucked with. She couldn’t restrain herself from saying in a cool voice,” It would be nice if you’d, like, told me your name before you insulted me.”

He rolled his dark eyes and huffed,” Fifth Seat Yumichika Ayasegawa.”

And so with this start her life as a Soul Reaper began.  
/  
Kisuke Urahara held the speaker in his hand frowning at what the voice on the other end had told him. For such strange readings, he found it highly unlikely.

“What do you mean the research team found nothing?” he asked, holding down the button.

Nemu’s voice crackled back,” There has been no sign of any unusual activities and no new readings since we have arrived.”

Memories of the Quincy and Aizen filled his head, but he honestly didn’t want to think in that direction. There couldn’t be another war. There couldn’t be another threat. Who was powerful enough? Who would really want to rise up now? What would want to rise up now? He hadn’t the slightest clue and just assuming a battle was coming was rather over assuming. The Kido Corps most likely botched their job taking care of the wall. Kisuke decided he would send a few more advance research teams before sending a report that would politely tell the Kido Corps to take better care of their shit.

Even as he decided his course of action, it didn’t stop the dread from growing in his chest.


	4. Soul Reaper Begin Part 1

Absolutely pathetic. The Eleventh only got ten new recruits?! Who in their right mind wouldn't want to be in the ultimate fighting Division? Yumichika felt his scowl deepening and feared that wrinkles would start to mar his face if he kept thinking such unbeautiful thoughts. He crossed his legs, one crooked up so he could rest his elbow on his knee. With the sunset casting an red-orange light across the cityscape he couldn't help thinking that he must look a gorgeous sight sitting atop the Eleventh Division's highest roof (the closed arena roof).

Not only did they only get ten recruits- all of them were ugly and untalented! They were all clearly the bottom of the barrel at the Academy and had only applied for the Eleventh because no one else would take them. Or because they just thought they could tough it out with the big dogs. Morons.

Especially that little twig of a girl that had Yachiru so fascinated. A bony little thing with harshly sharp features and a cattish green stare full of arrogance. Try as he might, the only thing he could see her being any good for would be as the Captain's toothpick.

The Eleventh had nothing against women joining. The men in it didn't really care about gender so long as you could lift a sword and swing it. There were even a handful of women within the Division at the moment. Large, brutish women, in his opinion, with unfeminine bulging muscles and scars littering their skin with matted hair on their heads. The longer a woman was in the Eleventh the more she tended to act like her fellow comrades. Yumichika couldn't picture the toothpick lasting that long. She'd probably request for a transfer in two days.

"Was it really that bad?' a voice as familiar as his own asked from behind him. Yumichika didn't even spare him a glance.

Ikkaku sat down next to him, holding out a bottle of sake which Yumichika graciously snatched. He pursed his lips after taking a shot of the alcohol," There are only ten recruits."

"Good recruits or shitty ones?"

"Ugly ones."

"That wasn't what I was asking."

"Does anything else really matter?"

Ikkaku scowled," Damnit to fucking hell, just fucking tell me if any of those snot-nosed fucking brats can lift up a fucking sword."

"I'd be surprised if they could pick up a teacup," Yukichika huffed.

The Third seat scratched the back of his head in thought," Well, we'll see who's got what it takes when we start training. You helping out this year or am I by myself breaking in the rookies?"

Yumichika twisted his braid, sniffing disdainfully," I see no point in training pigs for slaughter. They'll all end up dead one way or another. If I have to train them death will just come down on the weaklings faster than without my help."

Ikkaku was a tough instructor. He pushed the rookies to their limits with an extreme boot camp style training period that lasted for the first month and a half a new recruit showed up. All Divisions had mandatory drills about once every three weeks, but to officially join the Court Guard Squads you had to prove your worth. The process was in place to assess whether or not the new graduates officially had what it takes to be a Soul Reaper. Some, who had already been placed as a Seated Officer or were deemed automatically fit for duty, were allowed to bypass the harsh trial months and go straight into active duty. Yumichika himself had refused to partake in such barbaric activities when he'd first joined and had proven his worth through battle instead of pointless sweating exercises.

Yumichika had occasionally assisted or taken control over training in previous years. He was not a tough teacher as more as he was a sadistic teacher. Neither he nor Ikkaku really cared much for new recruits so they didn't really care whether they succeeded or not. The ultimate fighting Division had no room for weaklings. He was slightly crueler than his partner, while Ikkaku was harsh and indifferent, Yumichika used his words to dig into their consciousness and create doubts poisoning their minds while he beat into their bodies with physical blows. His psychological torture methods broke the rookies down into nothing leaving them with blank husks to be re-taught.

/

Boxes were stacked along the inner hall of the dorm rooms. The beds were stripped bare, mattresses naked without the coverings. The students walking out the building held expressions varied from triumphant smiles, to quiet remembrance, to tearful sobbing.

Mareyo was carefully arranging her prized shuriken in their holding case arranging and rearranging them with a frown on her face. She was dressed in a fine blue silk furisode, a stark difference from the ghastly red and white Academy uniform. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail.

Amaya stared at her reflection in the oval floor-length mirror, her lips tugging into an array of frowns and smiles. The black uniform she wore still new and intact unlike her own Academy ones which were mostly stained and fraying along the hems. Her asuachi stuck out of a box and she grabbed the hilt, tucking the sword through her white obi. The weight added a familiarity to the outfit.

"Amaya, will you quit posing?" Mareyo asked. "We have to have all of our stuff out by three."

"It's only twelve."

"That only gives us three hours to bring all of it to the Division's barracks!"

Amaya rolled her eyes, twirling in the mirror, seeing the black fabric swirl around her legs. She placed a hand on top of the hilt, lifting her chin with narrowed eyes, imagining an enemy standing before her. Then, she crouched low, energy crackling around her fisted hands. Amaya switched to standing up straight, cocking her head and batting her eyes innocently.

"You're procrastinating."

"I'm not!" Amaya half-yelled. "I just think I look really badass in this shihakusho."

"Sure you do," a different voice mocked. The navy-haired girl turned around, spotting Kisaki and the boys in the doorway. Knowing Kisaki, the blonde had probably had her crap moved since six in the morning.

"You look like a little kid who decided to play dress-up," mocked Nakamura, continuing on Kisaki's observation. Amaya was tempted to snatch Mare's shuriken and chase them out. Instead, she pointed an accusing finger at all three of them, "You dumbasses are ones to talk!"

All three of them shrugged in their shihakushos and answered simultaneously," We can actually pull it off."

"Lying assholes!" she seethed as Mare laughed.

/

Yachiru hopped on her feet, excited to see the new recruits. She couldn't wait to start playing with them. The only one she knew so far was Ammy-Am. She hadn't seen the navy-haired girl since she had agreed to join the Eleventh. Yumichika hadn't been very impressed with her new friend and continued to snub his nose at her and the rest of the recruits. She knew they were weak right now but with Pachinko-head's screaming and fighting they'd be whipped into shape in no time.

"Oi, Yachiru," one of the other women in the barracks called," why you so excited? One of the rookies owe ya candy or somethin?"

A few of the others snickered at the comment. Yachiru smiled at the one who's spoken, a woman she had named Muscles because she was the toughest girl in the Division next to her. Not as tough as Ikkaku or Yumichika but really a credit to the Division as the Eighth Seat.

"I just really like when there's new people. It's been forever!"

Muscles laughed, "You just like havin' new people to boss around, ya little shit. And it's only been about nine years."

"But that's too looooong!" she whined, poking her bottom lip out in a pout. The pink haired girl made no comment about her just wanting to boss people around.

Muscled leant over and ruffled her hair as she walked out and headed towards the arena. Yachiru continued to pout and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for Ammy-Am to get there.

There was a rustle in the bushes near the porch and Yachiru was pulled from her pouting to look with curious eyes at the foliage. She walked over and cocked her head as more noise erupted from the bush. She hopped off the porch and drew closer. Golden eyes peered out from the darkness.

"Kitty?" she questioned.

"Shhh," a deep voice hissed. "I've come to gather my army for a super-secret mission."

"An army!" Yachiru squealed. "That sounds like fun! Can I be in it? Can I? Can I? Can I?"

Yoruichi laughed, gesturing with her paw for Yachiru to join her in the darkness. Kitty- or Cat-Monster as Byakki called her- was possibly the best most entertaining person in the Seireitei. She'd started living permanently in the Shihoin estate at the end of the Quincy War, right when the baby boom happened. Yachiru knew she'd done that so she could take all the new children and train them to be nuisances to those in charge (specifically Byakki and the other nobles). Yoruichi got away with her schemes mostly because her army was adorable children who were on par with her in wreaking havoc. Central Forty-Six couldn't stand up to that kind of terror.

Kitty was also Yachiru's idol. She was beautiful, sassy, strong, and knew just which points to press to annoy Byakki. The Lieutenant wanted to be just like her when she grew up. She didn't think she could ever leave the Eleventh to go to the Second, which Yoruichi had been hinting she should do, but everything else she tried to emulate in any way possible.

Yachiru thought about Ammy-Am briefly, debating whether or not she should wait for her new friend. She frowned. Ammy-Am was cool but this was Yoruichi asking for her, the toughest, fastest, and overall most awesome woman in every dimension. Her navy-haired friend would be fine without her.

/

"No, no, no, no," Mareyo flustered, bustling around the large apartment while fussing at her family's servants. She hadn't wanted any of them actually packing her belongings, but to actually move them she'd required assistance. It wouldn't do for a noblewoman to lift such heavy boxes in her own home.

Her new living arrangements, provided to her by her big brother, was a five bedroom, three bathroom apartment just outside the Second Division Compound. She'd be living at the barracks for a mandatory amount of time during the trial period. Her big brother had mostly bought it for her as a graduation present. Mareyo appreciated the gesture, but she knew that once the servants left this large home would be eerily desolate and silent. Just imagining it made her long for the bustling life in the Academy dorms.

Amaya had walked with her there to keep her company. Mareyo knew it was because she was stalling from having to go to her own new Division. She knew from experience that Amaya didn't make friends easily and was nervous about being separated from her friends for the first time in six years. The navy-haired girl had acted tough and blasé about the situation, but she'd noticed the way the other girl was avoiding going to the barracks and going to annoy Kisaki after Mareyo was at her apartment.

She walked out onto the porch, eyeing the pond a short distance away mistrustfully.

Kisaki seemed to be rather pleased with her new living arrangements, as it consisted of living in a room with two other women. Amaya had called her a pervert when she found out and the boys had fallen into a fit of jealous rage. Mareyo didn't think Kiki would try anything with her new roommates. The blonde was hopefully smart enough not to lose respect in the eyes of her Division over a one-night stand. Besides, while her girlfriends might be content with just the three of them adding a fourth might start a war.

Then again, Kisaki might just enjoy the prospect of women fighting over her.

There was a sudden splash in the pond and Mareyo warily turned to see Yachiru kicking her feet in the water with a black cat on her shoulder. The little girl noticed her and waved enthusiastically, "Hi Fatty's sister! Is this your house?"

She felt her eye twitch. Her brother was not fat, he was just big-boned and hefty. He wouldn't be the Lieutenant of the Second Division if he were unhealthy. Mareyo kept trying to explain this to everyone but no one seemed to listen.

The cat on the little girl's shoulder looked at Mareyo with scrutinizing golden eyes. If she had to make an educated guess, she'd assume that was Lady Yoruichi. The woman Captain Soi Fon hero worshipped and drove her big brother insane. She'd heard good stories about the older woman from her father, who held a rather large amount of respect for her. She had never met the elusive cat but bowed her head slightly in respect. Lady Yoruichi laughed and Mareyo startled at the deep aristocratic masculine that came from the cat. Maybe she'd been wrong and this wasn't Lady Yoruichi. Or maybe Lady Yoruichi was really a Lord Yoruichi and liked cross-dressing? Why did no one tell her about this?

"Soi Fon is going to like you," the cat managed out between chuckles," she loves that automatic submission crap."

Mareyo smiled weakly, not sure if that was supposed to make her happy. Captain Soi Fon, whom she'd met in passing, had never seemed to be impressed by her and seemed to absolutely detest her big brother.

Lady (Lord?)Yoruichi hopped down and began circling her. Mareyo gulped nervously.

"You look nothing like the rest of your family," that deep voice observed. "Which is rather a blessing when you really look at them."

"I think my family is quite good-looking," Mareyo said defensively. What was wrong with people? The Omaeda clan had always been robustly barrel-chested. Not fat or ugly. If anything she felt that she was the ugly duckling in her family with sticks for arms and no chest to speak of. The two thing she did have was a little bit of meat on her hips and pretty hazel eyes she'd inherited from her Mother.

Yachiru giggled and Lady (Lord?!) Yoruichi struggled not to, "Whatever you say."

Then the cat plopped down in front of her, daintily wrapping its (His? Hers?) tail over its (Seriously, was this a man or a woman? What did this person/ creature identify as? Both? Neither? Someone just tell her!) paws and then there was a shift in the air around her. Not quite like the Kido where you pulled your spiritual pressure from around you, but more like the rare and more powerful kind of using your inner spiritual pressure along with the outer pressure. It was similar to standing next to a vortex without being pulled in. That was when she realized that before this moment she hadn't felt a single trace of spiritual energy from the cat. Absolutely nothing, not even the small bit that would be in a normal animal. A fog descended over the cat, flashes of light swirling in the miniature storm.

Deep violet hair fluttered with the rise and fall of the spirit energy, those same golden eyes smoldered from within a dark angular face. Supple skin overlaid sinewy muscles. Mareyo's eyes bulged out.

Definitely a woman. That was more of another woman she'd never wanted to see in her entire life. Also, her hair was all natural. Definitely not dyed. She really was not comfortable with that knowledge.

Yachiru was unfazed. Lady Yoruichi was unconcerned about her apparent nakedness, stretching languidly as if she were still a cat.

Mareyo's face flamed up, focusing her eyes anywhere but on the naked woman in front of her. Dear Kami, if Amaya were in this situation she'd have a panic attack. Kisaki would ogle at Lady Yoruichi and try to smooth talk the feline woman into a one night stand. Tojo would be polite and try to find her some clothes (she wondered briefly if she should do that...). Nakamura would get a nosebleed and most likely pass out from blood loss. As it was, she was just quietly standing there awkwardly while trying to pretend that Lady Yoruichi actually had clothes on.

"Hmm," Lady Yoruichi circled around her with a swagger in her step, "you're less of a prude than I'd have guessed."

Actually, she just really didn't want to offend the higher-ranked woman. Insulting her betters, even if they were as naked as the day they were born, seemed like a bad way to start off her career. Almost like something a certain friend of hers would do.

A sharp fingernail poked her in her cheek," You're actually kinda cute!"

"Huh? Wha-" she sputtered for a few seconds, her face if possible turning even redder.

Lady Yoruichi licked her lips and batted her eyes. Was this woman flirting with her? Mareyo struggled to form the words to say that she didn't swing that way(as Amaya would put it) and that she had a friend that she could introduce her to that would be perfectly on board with whatever Lady Yoruichi had planned.

A thumb circled around to bite into the fleshy part of her face, Lady Yoruichi grinned cheekily," Just messing with ya. I have no interest in little virgins. Not very fun if I don't get off as well."

"Th-that's good to know," Mareyo managed to choke out. Not even her first day actually being a Soul Reaper and she was being sexually-harassed. How wonderful.

She darted a look at Yachiru. The poor child! Left in such a strange woman's company. The image they must seem to the little girl. Lady Yoruichi, naked, and her blushing and stuttering like an idiot. Didn't the violet-haired woman realize how impressionable children were at Yachiru's age? How she might copy whatever she sees? It was bad enough that she was probably picking up a lot of bad habits from her Captain and the barbarians (barring Amaya) at the Eleventh. Yachiru didn't need any more negative influence. Especially anything that might be interpreted as sexual.

"Do you need clothes?"

She had to be strong and do the right thing. For Yachiru.

Lady Yoruichi sharply hit her in the head, scowling. Mareyo clutched the part of her head that stung from the woman's blow. She blinked dumbly up at Lady Yoruichi trying to piece together what she'd done wrong

Lady Yoruichi, still clearly irritated, sashayed away with exaggerated hip movements," One lesson you should know: don't ever insinuate that a woman is doing something wrong. You don't offer to get me clothes unless I ask or want clothes, which I didn't and I don't. Also, the way you were looking condescendingly at me was rude. It's not bad being condescending, but try not to make it so obvious. That's one way to make your career go down the shitter."

Yachiru smiled and nodded sagely, as if whatever Lady Yoruichi said was law.

Mareyo began wondering if everyone in power in the Court Guard Squads needed to be in the Looney bin.

/

With so few women in the Eleventh Division, Amaya lucked out and for the first time in six years she had a room all by herself. The room itself was even smaller than the dorm she had shared with Mareyo. The dark wood floorboards creaked ominously as she stepped into her new 'home'. The white walls stared down at her unwelcomingly, as if daring her to set her belongings down. The hall behind her was eerily silent, she'd apparently arrived while majority of the Division was busy with work in other parts of the compound or outside the Seireitei's walls. She quickly got to work storing her clothes in the tiny dresser. Amaya didn't have much, only a few yukatas and one furosode that had been a gift from Mareyo. So far, she only had one shihakusho. She'd have to visit the nearest quartermaster to get more.

Amaya's eyes kept drifting to look at the closed door, waiting for the pink powderpuff Lieutenant to burst in at any second.

She set her asauchi on the sword rack hanging on the wall parallel to the bed. Her hand glided over the navy sheath. Maybe all this silence and boredom would lead to a breakthrough in finally getting her fucking shikai. Whatever or whoever her zanpakuto was hadn't shown any intention of ever properly communicating with her. Amaya could always feel a presence in the back of her mind, could feel echoes of emotions that mirrored and differed from hers. The zanpakuto had never called her into her inner world, never officially talked to her, just seemed to be patiently watching her every move.

The opposite of her friends not yet fully achieved zanpakutos. Mareyo constantly complained about hers, saying how all he did was judge and nag her about how she still couldn't hear his name event though she'd been able to talk to him for a year now. Kisaki simply stated that hers was an idiot. Nakamura had mentioned one time that his was hard to catch. Amaya didn't really want to know what 'catching' your zanpakuto had to do with anything. Tojo could communicate and got along extremely well with his and was probably going to get his official shikai any day now. Lucky bastard.

Hers stubbornly remained quiet and formless.

She stuffed her Kido textbooks in the back of her closet along with her Laws of Soul Society textbooks. She probably wouldn't need them, especially the Kido one, but she didn't have the heart to throw them away either.

Her pink and red checkered quilt was the only splash of color so far that made her feel at home. Amaya sat down on the bed, wrapped up in her one comfort, clutching at her pale pink pillow.

Maybe she could paint the walls? Hang some pictures? Anything that would make this room feel like hers. There wasn't a lot of room to work with, but if other Soul Reapers could live in the barracks for years and make it theirs then so could she. Amaya wasn't rich like Mareyo, she couldn't afford an apartment or a house on an unranked officer's salary. Which was pretty pitiful. She'd have to sign up for every patrol possible and hope for a fight with a Hollow just to make ends meat. Well, figuratively. Soul Reapers were provided with food in the cafeterias and lodging so there really wasn't much else to spend kan on unless you needed clothes and personal items.

She wonders how her friends are liking their new places. Kisaki, the pervert, was probably already rifling through her roommates panty drawers. Nakamura was probably tripping over his own feet in excitement of meeting his hero. Seriously, he had the biggest man-crush on Captain Kurosaki it was pathetic. Amaya knew the man had saved the universe a handful of times but-

-well, okay, Nakamura had a point to act like a raving fanboy over the man who was one step away from being a god.

A loud booming knock came from her door and she leapt towards it, thinking that maybe Mareyo or The Boys had come to get her so they could explore the Seireitei. The place was so huge that the idea of traveling alone was a bit daunting.

Amaya had flung open the door and her eyes bulged out of her head at the sight before her. A large heavily muscled tan-skinned woman loomed over her. Her dark brown and tangled hair was a pixie-cut with braids framing her angular face. Dark eyes peered down at her, a sharp-toothed smirk on her face. Her uniform was loose and torn, gaping in the torso to reveal a crosshatching of bindings that dug so deeply into the skin she was shocked that the woman could breathe.

"So ya're what Yumi's been bitching about," the woman drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe. Her voice was rough and scratchy, like a smoker's.

Amaya replied hotly," I don't see why he's so fucking pissed about me joining. The princess barely looks like he could throw a punch."

She didn't like how that man could take one look at her and the rest of the recruits and automatically lay down a verdict. The other recruits might drop out, but she would try her damndest to prove him wrong.

The hulking woman laughed," Don't let him hear ya callin' him that. That 'princess' would slit your little throat and gut ya like a fish."

"He'd have to catch me first," she challenged, then realized she was challenging a woman twice her size and at least eight times her weight while having a pink and red quilt draped over her shoulders and clutching a bright pink pillow childishly with her left hand. Intimidation just was not working for her today.

"Don't matter how far ya run or where ya hide, that sadist'll find ya and get revenge," the woman said seriously.

The two of them stood there in uncomfortable silence after that statement. Amaya tried to make awkward small talk. Eventually she just went back to basics and stuck her one free hand out," Amaya Ongaku."

The woman slapped her palm and clenched her hand in a bone crushing handshake that Amaya struggled not to shriek in pain or flinch away from," Binasu Akiyama, but everyone calls me Muscles."

"Did Yachiru give you that nickname?"

"Yeah, what she call ya?"

"Ammy-Am."

"Lucky bitch," Muscles grumbled, scratching the back of her neck. "I guess her lil' pet names make more sense now that she's older."

Ammy-Am did sound better than being called Pachinko-head or Muscles. It didn't make her like the stupid name any less than she already did, it just made her feel slightly more grateful that she hadn't gotten one that was even more ridiculous.

"I didn't just come in 'ere to chitchat," Muscles finally continued. Amaya noticed that she always had one hand draped over the hilt of her sword, fingers flexing as if preparing to grab it, and that her eyes constantly roved over her windowless room and darted to look down the sides of the hallways. Always watching, prepared for a battle even in the comfort of what was technically supposed to be their home. A supposed safe place.

"I came 'ere to warn ya," her voice took on a note of steel and suddenly the big woman's expression changed from cocky weariness to a deeper almost stone-like quality. The age lines in her face appeared deeper, scars running through every ridge of her body. Amaya suddenly realized that considering this woman appeared to only be in her forties, she probably was well in her centuries.

"It ain't gonna be no walk through a field of flowers 'ere. The Captain and everyone else 'ere don't tolerate any weaknesses. We the ultimate combat Division and everyone 'ere takes pride in that. Ya decide ya can't or won't fight, then someone's gonna kick yer fucking ass either out or back in shape," Muscles paused.

"For a woman, it's gonna be even harder. All the men are just gonna wait and try to make you pussy out, make you seem less than you actually are. They ain't being sexist, it's just that they got this old school mentality that women are weaker-"

"Then we have to prove them wrong," Amaya cut in angrily. How could this woman say men saw them as weak and in the next breathe say they weren't being sexist? That was the most fucking sexist thing she'd ever heard!

"It ain't that fucking simple!" snarled Muscles, glaring down at her in a way that made Amaya want to snap back. "One of a woman's natural battle qualities is that we want to dodge and run. We wanna avoid until the killing blow and if not we try to run away. Everything that's against the Eleventh's fighting philosophy."

She pointed a long, veined finger at her," Ya don't fucking run. Ya don't fuckin avoid. Ya go in there and don't give a shit how much they slice you up. Act like it don't even hurt and learn how to hit hard, harder than whoever's beating the shit out of you. Become betta than anyone at handlin' a sword. Exercise and go to every drill Ikkaku holds until ya can punch through a brick wall with ya bare hands. Slaughter every Hollow ya see. Nevah ask for help in a fight. Only then will they give you any respect."

Amaya still glared at the other woman as the words sunk in. Probably a bunch of bull that was from when Muscles had first joined who knows how many centuries ago. There was no way the Seireitei would allow such patriarchal shit to go down in one of their Divisions. They would push her and nag her to get stronger because she was a new recruit not because she was a female. After a couple of weeks of intense training, her fellow Division members would at least give her a scrap of respect. Even as she worked herself up with her anger, another side of her took note of what Muscles said. She didn't give a shit about impressing the "not sexist" men in the Division, but she did want to be a better fighter and this woman seemed like she'd been in more than a few scrapes. Following her battle code wouldn't be the worst thing she's ever done.

As much as she really wanted to tell Muscles that her advice was unwelcome and kinda but not altogether stupid, Amaya decided that since this was only her first day she needed to play nice," Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind."

"Well," the woman scratched the back of her head, looking a little pissed at the clear dismissal," I'll probably see ya at training tomorrow. Ikkaku signed me up to help with the drills."

Amaya slowly shut the door, grumbling when it was fully shut, "Well, happy fucking first day for me."

/

"Um, Rukia?' Kiyone asked, her brow creased in worry. "Have you seen my children?"

Rukia filled in the last line of her medical forms saying that she would be able to perform all physical tasks until her second trimester. After that, she'd be bound to just paperwork.

"Which ones?"

"All of them."

The blonde woman rubbed her rotund belly nervously. The Third Seat normally wasn't this worried over her children, but when she was pregnant her maternal instincts went into overdrive. It wasn't like there were very many things in the Seireitei that would harm children, especially when most of the few natural-ish born children either belonged to nobles, Captains, or high-ranked officers. Threats would have to deal with the wrath of not only powerful and influential parents, but also the anger of many livid aunts and uncles.

Kiyone didn't have to worry about her children misbehaving either. All four of her children took after their father in temperament and the worst they could do was distribute the candy their father gave them to the other less behaved children. Like Rukia's children. Or the Seireitei's triple threat terrors: Yachiru Kusajishi, Mamorou Muguruma, and Sachiko Yadomaru-Otoribashi.

It wasn't like Yoruichi was in town either, so she wouldn't be recruiting her 'army' to…

Wait. When would Yoruichi be back from her vacation to the World of the Living? Rukia could've sworn that the woman had said she wouldn't be back until the end of the month. Yoruichi had made it a point to let everyone know that she would be taking a cruise around the world with Tessai and would be gone for quite a time. The children of the Seireitei, who all adored their Commander Yoruichi (or Auntie Yoruichi, depending on what kind of mood she was in) had been heartbroken to hear that the cat woman wouldn't be running around to help cause mischief. The rest of the Soul Society had breathed a sigh of relief. Yoruichi hadn't taken well to the move and being tied down to one place after the end of the war. The Shihoin clan fought her with every decision she made and were constantly nipping at her heels trying to force her to marry. She took out her restlessness and dissatisfaction by making the children terrorize everyone they came across.

Personally, Rukia didn't mind. Their shenanigans never got too diabolical or out of hand and were more of an annoyance than any actual threat. They were also being taught basic skills they would need later in life as Soul Reapers by one of the most powerful women in the Soul Society. Yoruichi was also one hell of a teacher, if her former students were any indication. It also wasn't like there was anything else for the children to do while their parents were at work. Orihime, Momo, and Hanataro had set up a daycare care center near the First Division barracks, as it was possibly the safest place in the Soul Society and easy to defend, but it was mostly for the younger set of children who were more or less still toddlers. The older kids didn't care much for the 'babyish' activities there. Her girls, as stubborn as their father, absolutely refused to set foot inside the building. Rukia eventually had stopped fighting them and hired a nanny during the daytime. Sometimes she'd pass nearby the building and hear Nanao arguing with Mei and Captain Muguruma trying to pry his crying son off of his leg. Those times always reminded her why she preferred being a more relaxed parent than one who was overtly strict.

Realizing she was getting distracted, Rukia forced herself to get back on task. Yoruichi was supposed to be out of this dimension, but she wouldn't put it past the crafty cat to sneak back in while everyone's guard was down.

"Kiyone, could you get a hell butterfly for me?"

"Yes," Kiyone answered slowly," but can I ask why?"

She mulled it over," There seems to be a stray cat that has been running amuck in the Soul Society. I think it's about time we put a stop to it."

It took Kiyone a few seconds to catch on, her mind practically goo with 'baby brain'. Rukia was not looking forward to going through that stage again. Pregnant women seemed to need a little extra push to get out of lazy mode, their brains in a daze from all the hormones coursing through their bodies.

"Ooooh," realization dawned on the blonde's face. "I get it. We're gonna-"

"Yes."

/

Training schedules for the Second Division were kept firmly under lock and key. The only ones who officially knew it were the Captain, Lieutenant, and Third Seat. This system was put in place centuries ago by the Stealth Force and had carried over into the Division when the two merged. The members received a brief coded message through hell butterfly and reported punctually at whichever location was chosen for that day's training sessions. If history lessons were correct, since the Stealth Force and the Second Division dealt with covert operations and undercover work they wanted to preserve their fighting techniques and keep under wraps which members were non-combative, spies who couldn't risk being seen as members of the Force, and also trying to keep hidden tahe true strength of their members.

Mareyo had read the documents but she wasn't expecting a hell butterfly to breeze softly onto her cheek at three o'clock in the morning with a booming voice blaring in her skull,

" Blowing from the west  
Fallen leaves gather  
In the east."

Her brain still scattered from the harsh wake up, Mareyo dimly became aware that the haiku was by Buson. She tried to recall the code breaker she'd learned in school but found she could only stare longingly at her pillow while missing the warmth of her blankets. The dark butterfly fluttered on her shoulder, demanding her attention. She rubbed her eyes with closed fists and tried to recall how to crack the code. English poetry for morning drills, literary quotes for midday. Haikus for nighttime. Blowing from the west and gathering in the east gave away that she was supposed to be at the eastern training grounds.

She flipped out of bed, flinging open her closet to yank down her uniform. With a small degree of difficulty, she had slipped into the skintight black uniform, a loose draping of black cloth covering her mouth. Mareyo pulled her hair back into a tight bun, pausing in the mirror to swipe mascara on. It was her first night on the job and she wanted to look presentable.

She turned off her lights, shooing the hell butterfly out the window and making sure to close it. Mareyo locked her door and shunpo'd away, the nightscape blurring around her. She paused briefly on a thick branch, pulling the loose cloth over her mouth tighter. It was still springtime in the Seireitei and the nights tended to be quite chilly. The spring breezes easily pierced through her thin outfit. She'd have to inquire with her brother about commissioning a Kido woven heated one from the quartermaster.

Mareyo sped through the forest, grateful for the many branches present. She was so exhausted that if she had to shunpo over a large, clear area she would probably pass out. Well, probably not, but she really would like to still be in bed.

The eastern training grounds were just a clearing that was meant to look naturally occurring n everyway. No footprints were on the ground, no weapons lying about, and no attack dummies stood at attention. The only sign that it was used for battle purposes were the faint marks on the trees where blades had cut into the bark

She landed soundlessly in the center of the clearing and waited.

/

The hell butterfly flew around him insistently. He knew from the spiritual pressure emanating from it that his wife had sent it. He expected that it was ether work related or he forgot to do something and she was going to scream at him via the butterfly. Both of which were frequent occurrences.

Instead, only a single sentence entered his mind," The cat has returned."

Fuck. Yoruichi was back.

In his comparatively short life, he'd faced Byakuya, an illusion creating madman, another illusion creating madman, and the embodiment of the Quincies. He'd been at deaths door and came back with a punch. Hell, he'd married Rukia. All of which were terrifying, nerve-wracking experiences.

But, combining all of those horrible memories and the emotions that had ensued could not compare to the absolute terror the cat woman filled him with. Not even the time he'd fought Kenpachi could live up to what that woman was capable of. Especially since she'd enlisted children into her services. Damnit, only a monster would fight against children. And she had recruited his children into her schemes. His perfect children that she was corrupting with her influence.

The butterfly flew away and he clenched his fists.

"Yo, Chad!" he yelled through the thin walls, making long strides over to the window in his office. Chad didn't reply, but he knew that the lieutenant had heard him. They were a couple of the few who had arrived early in the morning to prepare for the new recruits.

"I've got things to do! Watch over the Division while I'm gone, will ya?"

Then, Ichigo shunpo'd away, hell-bent on stopping that hellcat from completing her dastardly plans.

/

Mareyo waited, yawning every few minutes, her eyelids drooping as the sun crept over the trees. She must've been standing there for at least three hours. Why hadn't any of the rest of the Division shown up? Maybe this was just a test to see how far and long her patience could last. Or they had all decide to sleep in. Or this was a prank on the newbie noble.

The wind picked up. A chill licked up her skin. Different from the ones before it. It originated from nowhere and everywhere at once. So many vile emotions emitted from the cool gaze. Casually, she unsheathed her tanto. Her zanpakuto, still stupidly nameless, hissed something about her being a dim-witted imbecile who must've been dropped on her head as an infant. Mareyo decided not to comment on her zanpakuto being a bully towards her. She had much more important issues to focus on.

Like the knife heading straight for her head.

If she were more experienced and/ or more of a badass she would've caught the knife in the air and flung it back at the person who's aimed it at her. Since she was neither (yet), Mareyo sprang out of the projectile's way. The throwing knife, with a short blade and circular tip of the handle was embedded deeply into the grass.

Black figures, almost indecipherable amongst the trees, became more apparent as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her eyes noticed the small actions. A twitch of the hand, the rise and fall of shoulders.

A dark mass separates from the branches, shunpo'ing towards her with clenched fists. She is smaller and lighter on her feet so she easily ducks out of the way. He swings an arm towards her and she darts around it, dropping her tanto coming in close and jabbing him in the pressure point by his throat. Quick and relatively painless.

A wave of pain erupts from her back and she springs forward and away with a flip to see her new opponent, a girl this time. The other girl's dark green eyes flash sadistically before she disappears from sight. Mareyo manages to block the kick, grabbing the other girl's leg and off balancing her. Her opponent quickly readjusts and lashes out with her other foot, clipping her in the side of her head.

Her head is ringing and a fist busts into her stomach, knocking her back. She spits the blood out of her mouth from when she's bitten down onto her lip. She had forgotten about her half mask and the spit ended up absorbing into the fabric and getting on her face. Mareyo thinks she knows this girl, a peer of hers from the Academy, although she's never really seen her fight before. Always quiet and in the back of the class with a book, polite when asked a question and scarily smart.

There is no politeness in the way she relentlessly lands punches and kicks into Mareyo, her eyes alive and wicked as she blackens her skin and splits her lip and beats her until she's lying on the ground crying and reaches into her sleeve to pull out something sharp and shiny and oh no-

A white hand abruptly appears and snags the weapon, a low-pitched female voice commanding, "That's enough. Killing her will teach nothing, no matter how tempting the idea is. Good form for a beginner, recruit."

The woman speaking is short, with dark hair and dark beady eyes. A white haori is draped over her Punishment Squad uniform. Captain Soi Fon. She knows this woman. This woman who her brother both praised and cursed. This woman who was talked of as the most ruthless guard dog in the Gotei 13. Who expected nothing but the best from her subordinates.

She notices the way her opponent-Skai Yu, she recalls the name in a haze of pain-seems to snap out of her bloodlust, turning her eyes downward and saying meekly," Y-yes, C-captain."

Mareyo whimpers in pain.

Captain Soi Fon turns to look at her, eyes like gunmetal, "Get up, recruit."

She can't move, she wants to lay there and forget that this ever happened. Her limbs feel heavy asnd detached.

"Get up, recruit!" she barks, her voice echoing in the silent clearing.

Mareyo shuts her eyes. She's a noble lady. She's nice. This isn't supposed to be how this goes.

She feels the swish of air next to her and she's yanked roughly up by her hair. Mareyo groans in pain and her eyes squint open. Figures in black blur into her vision. Her fellow Division members, a few she recognizes from the Academy. Her opponents from earlier stand in front of her, one angry and the other fidgeting nervously.

Captain Soi Fon is the one who's lifted her up, surprisingly strong for such a short statured woman.

"Explain why you did not show up for training this morning, "her Captain demands.

Her tongue feels thick and dry in her mouth as she whispers, "I thou-"

"Don't mumble," snaps Captain Soi Fon.

How can she speak louder? Her body is screaming in pain and her voice is caught in her throat, but she complies and attempts to raise her voice to the Captain's expectations, "I did."

Mareyo would elaborate, but the effort it took to say those two words drained her and her knees began to shake even with Captain Soi Fon holding her up by the hair. A few strands she can feel being yanked out. She tries to make sense of this abuse. All she had done was make sure to arrive at the designated meeting point for training. Instead, she was being beaten to a pulp for apparently not going to training. Her eyes widened with realization. To be a member of the Secret Corps you have to be clever and crafty. Giving such an easily deciphered haiku… How could she be so stupid? How could she have been the only on to make such a mistake?

"You did?" Captain Soi Fon echoes incredulously her grip tightening," Well, then would you care to tell me what drills we did? The protocols I issued? Did you hear me explain how assignment went by your rankings after training? Or maybe you were just too busy twiddling your thumbs?"

Mareyo knows these questions are all rhetorical but she tries to defend herself," I thought-"

"Oh, but you didn't, did you?" Captain Soi Fon cuts her off, her tone filled with disgust. Mareyo's mouth snaps shut, her eyes downcast. She recalls Lady Yoruichi's words from earlier about how the Captain would love her attitude. This was certainly proving the cat woman wrong.

"Let this be our final lesson for today," her Captain's voice rises as she addresses the group, "to survive in my ranks you will have to become as sharp as a knife. You will be deadly and cunning. For those who don't make the cut at the end of this trial period will meet an even worse fate than your fellow recruit."

With that said, Captain Soi Fon unceremoniously dropped her onto the ground. Mareyo curled up into a ball. A sound like wind rushing through the trees whirled around her. Once the sound stopped, she pulled herself up and began the trek towards the Fourth Division.

/

Amaya was awoken at the ass crack of dawn by the sound of a pot being banged against her door. She rolled over and stood up, her bones popping as she stood up. Her eyes squinted at the clock, glaring at the time it presented. The banging on her door persisted.

"I'll be there in a fucking second!" she bellowed. The banging continued on.

Amaya snorted and began yanking her uniform on, slipping her kosode on and tying the white sash on hurriedly. She didn't want to be seen as a slacker on her first day. Maybe later on but not now.

As she threw open the door, she pulled her hair to the side in a sloppy bun, most of the hairs escaping the twine's hold. Standing in front of her was Yachiru, clapping the giant pot against the wall now, her smile wide and her eyes lit up. Amaya froze. The pink-haired monster was back. She almost could swear that the little girl's eyes gleamed with a red tint in their shining glee. She prayed that Yachiru wasn't in charge of training. She would probably commit seppuku within an hour.

"Good morning!" shrieks Yachiru, skipping around her as she makes her way towards the training arena.

"Mm-hm," Amaya said noncommittally, speed walking faster than she normally would to hopefully escape the little Lieutenant.

"Are you excited? Training's really, really fun! Especially when I'm in charge, but I'm not in charge today, "she added the last part in a disgruntled tone of voice, then brightened up again, " But Pachinko-head's pretty good, too, when he's not being a Mr. Stick in the Mud…"

After that, Amaya tuned the little girl's babblings out. She had much more pressing concerns to worry about. She didn't exactly know how training was run in the Eleventh. All she knew was that it was intense and that a few people had been known to not survive it. The navy-haired girl could only hope she'd be one of the lucky few to actually live.


End file.
